


Remote Access

by Kalee60



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky wants to give up control, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous use of dodgy wifi and remote controls, Horny Bucky Barnes, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Object Insertion, POV Bucky Barnes, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Steve wants to take control, Top Steve Rogers, Under-negotiated Kink, oblivious boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Bucky Barnes was in trouble. More trouble than he ever thought he could get into as a grown adult. And it was caused by two singular factors that should never have become entwined.One, his god-like housemate Steve Rogers, who was unfairly handsome and the perfect specimen of man in not only looks but personality - and completely out of Bucky’s league.Two, Bucky’s obsession with a new toy he’d purchased to fill his lonely nights (and other areas).But when Steve buys a new TV, suddenly these two seemingly separate parts of Bucky’s life crash together in a spectacular and obsessive way.Bucky soon finds himself not as in control as he thought - and that’s when things start to get interesting...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 698
Kudos: 730
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All,
> 
> To start off - this was NOT what I had intended to write next, not at all, so apologies to all the people waiting on the AU superheros fic - this is another AU (not part of the challenge) that crept up on me. So please take this offering that started as a crack conversation in a Shrunkyclunks discord group, whose members then enabled me into writing for a change - so we can blame them for what you’re about to read. 
> 
> I make no apologies (well not many), this is pure indulgent Bucky-centric porn with a little plot thrown in for your pleasure. I've had terrible writers block over the last month or two and when my brain decided to kick back into gear - this is what fell out... (FYI - this was supposed to be about 5k... I've just hit 25k - so get ready)
> 
> This forms part of my Stucky Bingo: E3: Mirrors.
> 
> Huge thanks to [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) for the keen eyes and beta - once again I wouldn’t be doing this without her - and also huge thanks for the sprints with my discord families that made this fic possible! All further mistakes are mine!
> 
> So, I guess I can’t stall any longer - go forth, enjoy - and just wave your hand over the logistics on some of this ;)

Bucky heard a ruckus coming from the front door to the apartment, and waited a moment to make sure it wasn’t his imagination. But then it came again, a cross between a knocking and thumping sound. Groaning at the timing of it all, he gingerly slid off the side of his bed and threw on a pair of discarded sweats and a t-shirt to cover his nakedness. He didn’t bother to clean himself up properly, hoping it was just a delivery for Steve or maybe even food gone to the wrong door.

As he got closer to the scratching, thumping noise, Bucky found himself listing slightly to the left, trying to breathe evenly as his body swayed in motion, blood rushing back to his brain before a loud bang sounded through the wood.

“Buck… door… you there?”

_ Shit _ , it was Steve, not a delivery.

Throwing open the door, Bucky wasn’t sure what he was looking at, at first. It was a box, large, flat and thin and before he could voice his disbelief that Steve had clearly bought a brand new TV, he was told to move, and Steve staggered awkwardly through the now open door, carrying the full weight in his huge, muscled arms.

The box was far larger than Steve, but he was handling it like it weighed nothing, it was the shape he seemed to struggle with.

“What the fuck is that?” Bucky asked and winced slightly as he moved swiftly across the room to clear a space for the monstrosity that appeared to be their new entertainment unit. Clearly Steve was sick of watching their 20inch screen.

“It’s a new TV,” Steve said with an excited lilt to his voice, ignoring Bucky’s sarcasm. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back at him, loving how energetic Steve was after lugging the huge device up the stairs to their fourth level apartment without exertion. Bucky would be a panting mess after three yards. “It’s a smart one, has apps and everything.”

Bucky grabbed one side of the box to wiggle it back against the wall until they unpacked it, smiling at Steve’s unfettered joy, but the movement jostled his middle and he gasped. Steve looked up immediately at the almost wounded sound.

“You ok?”

“Yeah fine,” Bucky bit back. And he  _ was _ fine, he just was a little sensitive in that moment, a little… on edge, feeling things more keenly - and he couldn’t exactly tell Steve why. “Just twinged my back a little, nothing major.”

Steve eyed him, concern clear in his eyes, and Bucky held his breath, the moment should have passed on unremarkable, but it didn’t, and all because Bucky was acting odd, knowing that he was currently hiding something  _ big _ from Steve.

“I don’t want you to strain yourself, so just leave it where it is - I’ll set it up later.” Steve interrupted Bucky’s thought spiral, which had gone cloudy the moment Steve mentioned the word strain. “I have to dash out and get a few more things - you going to be here when I get back?”

“Yep,” Bucky said, popping the ‘p’, having no intention of going anywhere, and also relieved that Steve was heading out again so soon. It left him with time to...  _ well _ , explore some things of his own.

Steve walked closer and squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, “You sure you’re ok?” Bucky nodded, Steve’s gesture, firm and solid - that caretaking attitude - sparking something deep inside of him. “Alright, back soon. Later.”

Bucky heaved a sigh of relief when the front door clicked shut, and he scurried back to his room, inhaling thick and fast, not believing what he’d just endured and hidden with Steve in the same room. Slamming the door behind him, Bucky shucked the sweat pants and t-shirt immediately, feeling the brush from the overhead fan beating slow and steady bursts of air across his skin, and stood for a moment, naked and staring down at the packaging on his bed that he’d torn asunder when it arrived an hour earlier. He picked up the small innocuous remote and pressed one of the buttons a few times until his core began to shake and his legs started to give way. Slumping to the floor with a moan, Bucky switched it off again when images of Steve’s muscled arms carrying the immense weight of the TV filled his mind.

It was one thing to buy a toy that would fill him up, vibrate against his prostate, edge himself deliciously at all times of the day if he so wished. It was another to daydream about his hot-as-fuck housemate during said play times.

It just wasn’t right. 

_ Was it? _

Steve and he had met eight months earlier when Bucky answered an advert for a housemate, and at first, Bucky was astounded a man like Steve existed in New York, he was single, athletic, nice, gorgeous, and liked to take charge in the bedroom, in a very demanding way. Bucky had been exposed to it second hand, hearing it through the wall when Steve had guests over. And boy, did Bucky wish it was  _ his _ writhing body underneath Steve, being told he was a good boy and that ‘of course’ he could take more. But, they were first and foremost housemate’s and now friends, there wasn’t a sexual innuendo in sight within their relationship. It was strictly platonic.

So daydreaming about Steve’s muscles wrapped around him, manhandling him into position on the sofa, bending him over, ripping his legs apart to pull out his toy slowly,  _ oh so _ slowly before wetting him up with his tongue and mouth; telling Bucky he tasted sweet and that he wanted to fill him up with his dick instead, was probably not how to view the person who paid half the rent and utilities.

Yet it didn’t stop Bucky when at a point of no return. Spilling into his hand. Imagining eyes of crystal cut blue staring into his. Pleased. 

Proud.

Bucky tried to put Steve out of his mind for the moment, the plug demanding all his attention, so he positioned his full length mirror at the base of his bed for a better angle, sat on a towel he’d placed on the floor and spread his legs, staring at the small black tail that escaped his hole. He wasn’t puffy like when he’d been pounded into for hours upon hours, but he was slightly stretched and he tugged at the tail, watching as the toy shifted within him, feeling the pull inside, delicious and anticipatory.

He fluttered his eyes shut and enjoyed the moment of peace, of being there on the floor in his room alone, the sensations that he was spending time on himself, allowing waves of pleasure to wash over him in real time with no rush, was bliss. But it would be so much better if someone was with him.

He pushed aside the errant thought, knowing that of course it would be, and attempted to think about someone playing with him, controlling him, someone  _ other _ than Steve. Anyone really.

And as he positioned himself, legs spread, knees bent up so he could see and feel his fullest, the small black remote in his palm; Bucky thought about a very tall, very blonde, faceless football player by the name of Stefan who had a slight Brooklyn accent, and flicked the switch.

_ Perfect. _

  
  


Bucky sat down slowly on the sofa, adjusting himself into a position that wasn’t going to make his brain white out each time he breathed. Maybe he was naive, maybe he was being overly optimistic about his stamina, but he liked the feeling of being snug and full, and had decided when he heard Steve come back a few hours later that he’d keep the plug inside of himself. He was two orgasms down and floating, but not quite ready to take it out and relinquish the decadent hold it had on him and his senses.

He was thoroughly addicted already. The reviews had  _ not _ warned him of that possibility. 

As he greeted a bright eyed and happy Steve, Bucky had never felt so naughty, so alive or so cheeky as he watched Steve’s broad back move the new TV into position. And maybe that was a mistake, watching Steve handle the large device, because although Bucky had already  _ managed _ himself twice, he was still so very turned on knowing that the fat black toy pressed on his insides deliciously, just waiting for him to flick a switch on the remote that sat innocently in his bedroom. Perhaps it was also the pending mindblowing orgasm in his future that made him feel a little cocksure, a little reckless.

“Hey Steve, maybe move it to the right, just a little bit.”

“Yeah sure,” Steve replied and Bucky watched gleefully as Steve's huge arms spread out, grasping the TV on each side, moving it as if it weighed less than a bag of sugar. Steve’s muscles rippled under the tight Under Armour shirt and Bucky sighed internally. Maybe Stefan would have a broad back in his next fantasy, one that Bucky could cling to as he wrapped his legs snug up over his hips, riding his huge dick while being pushed up against the wall, weightless, completely in someone else’s charge.

It was a fantasy Bucky was infatuated with, being taken care of, not having to do anything - having limited choices. He wasn’t a small man by any means, he was thick and muscular, worked out probably too much, but Bucky enjoyed seeing how he could mould his body into what he wanted, and sure most guys he dated…  _ fucked _ , liked their partners slightly smaller, but there were also a number who wanted their bottom to be completely cut.

“That better?” Steve asked, and Bucky took a moment to come back into himself.

“Uh, yeah, but can you make the cord go around the base so you can’t see it?”

“Can do,” Steve said with a wink, and Bucky immediately filed that under a folder for later, when he thought about Steve... Stefan.

Steve bent over and fossicked around under the cabinet for a bit, and the view, in Bucky’s opinion, was far better than anything he’d ever see on the TV. Including most porn.

Bucky shifted again trying not to stare too much, which was almost impossible and suddenly the sense of being full hit him. He couldn’t help his body’s natural reaction and ground down on the cushions, stifling a gasp that threatened to well up and out of his throat. The toy definitely had a reach to it, and if he could position himself just slightly to the left it would...

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered.

Suddenly two very concerned blue eyes were right before him. Dazed, Bucky looked back owlishly.

“Are you ok, Buck?” Steve asked, Bucky blinked once, lost in a depthless sea. “Answer me - is it your back again?” 

And before Bucky could respond or form a coherent word, Steve ran his hands directly across Bucky’s shoulders, reaching around to press lightly down his spine and Bucky all but jerked, trying not to give away that the toy was shooting all sorts of pleasure up his spine just from where it was pressing. The damn thing wasn’t even on. But with Steve right there, right in front of him, staring earnestly with worry in his eyes for  _ him _ , Bucky melted. He wanted to lean forward, kiss those pink lips, see if Steve would kiss him back, find out if he’d be sweet or demanding, shocked or eager? Would Steve then take him in hand, take the remote from his room and show Bucky all the stars in the sky before making him a whimpering mess?

Instead he smiled crookedly, “yeah I’m alright, just a twinge that startled me. I might have sat funny.”

“Well, I think you need to give the gym away for a couple of days. I don’t want you hurt, okay?”

Maybe it was the tone Steve used, the hardness and command in the words that made Bucky’s hindbrain sit up and beg for more of the same, made him drop his eyes demurely, looking up through his lashes to utter, “Sure, anything you say, Steve.” 

The sharp inhale and the widening of Steve’s eyes was almost indecipherable, and when Steve leaned away, joking about how they might need to push the sofa back into the kitchen to see the wide screen properly, Bucky wondered if Steve’s reaction had happened at all, or if it was all in his head. 

Steve got up from his haunches after what felt like an age of staring, and sat on the other end of the sofa, grabbing the remote from it’s packaging and placed the batteries in it, messing with the slimline device. And that was the moment Bucky forgot all about Steve’s interesting reaction, and instead went stock still.  _ Well _ , his outer body did. His inner body, on the other hand, was quivering like a bow that had been released after being held taut for too long. 

His toy had vibrated three times in quick succession, then stopped.

“So I’m just going to connect it to the network, find all our channels, it might take a bit - do you want a beer?”

Bucky nodded, not certain his voice would work, because once again the toy vibrated, long and hard, before ceasing.

Steve gave him a quick grin and jumped up, disappearing into the kitchen. “Pale or lager?”

“Pale…” Bucky’s voice cracked, “Pale Ale, please.”

What the fuck was happening?

He quickly checked the pockets of his sweats for the control, had he brought it out into the lounge with him? No, there was nothing in there except an old tissue that must have gone through the wash more than once, plus he was certain that he’d left the remote in his room. When Steve had returned home an hour earlier, yelling out to him with such urgency, Bucky dropped everything and raced out, so maybe he  _ did _ have it in his hand when he left his room and threw it somewhere.

Mortified, and face burning red, he could hear Steve rummaging around in the utensil drawer, looking for a bottle opener and Bucky knew he had limited time to work it out. 

Jumping up, he threw the cushions about, looking under the throw blanket, checking in the cracks and crevices of the sofa in case he’d slipped the remote there without thinking and inadvertently sat on it in the process. But there was nothing, he couldn’t find the small black device, the remote to his toy was nowhere, all he could see was the one for the TV sitting on the arm of the sofa. 

He was ass up, face down  _ under _ the sofa when he heard a strangled cough from behind him.

“Uh, beer.” Steve husked, and Bucky looked up and over his shoulder, seeing the slight tinge of pink on Steve’s cheeks, and realised that in his predicament he’d managed to present himself unabashedly to Steve. Bucky quickly sat back down on his knees, but all that did was move the toy, push it in deeper and Bucky hissed a quiet breath, steadying the rush through his body, willing his dick to remain in it’s semi-hard state and not burst forth in all it’s rigid glory and out him as a deviant. 

_ Oh fuck. _

Would Steve have been able to see the outline of the small tail poking from his rim? No,  _ no _ way - Steve would have had to have known Bucky was wearing a toy to notice that detail, the small lump - plus, for it to be obvious, Steve had to be staring directly at Bucky’s ass, and more specifically at where his hole was covered from view.

“Lost something?” Steve enquired, voice gruffer than usual.

“Uh, no,” Bucky said quickly and glanced back at the sofa.

Suddenly a cold icy sensation pressed on the back of his neck, startling Bucky into a yelp, and Steve’s deep chuckle followed a second later as he continued to press the bottle against Bucky's flushed and feverish skin.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

Bucky grasped the neck of the bottle and slid it around until it nestled just under his loose necked t-shirt, up against his chest and sighed into the chill, the coolness calming his racing heart.

Opening his eyes, Bucky found Steve staring down at him, something behind the blue that Bucky couldn’t decipher; couldn’t even start to figure out - he’d never seen Steve look at him in that way before. Sure, they were now friends after living together for the best part of a year, yet they still hadn’t completely worked out each other’s moods and signals. Maybe he’d annoyed Steve somehow?

Bucky finally moved himself from the precarious position of kneeling on the floor, remembering why he was down there in the first place when a jolt went through his ass, and his gaze darted around the room, still not seeing the remote anywhere. Meanwhile Steve settled back on the other end of the sofa, too close to Bucky and his snug toy, but also not nearly close enough.

Thankfully the toy hadn’t activated again, although there was something almost comforting about the solid, yet smooth nudges when they did occur. But Bucky was infinitely glad he’d not been sitting with the pressure against his prostate when it decided to purr to life, he wasn’t certain he could mask a reaction of that magnitude well at all, considering he’d only used the plug twice and already it made him come in less than five minutes each time. He was going to write the company one hell of a review. 

Yet for all of his experience with toys of various shapes and sizes, Bucky had absolutely little to no stamina with this particular one. He needed time to work up a resistance, and he thought he’d have time to play that afternoon, test himself, but Steve came home early and he was now on the other end of the sofa with no excuses to disappear. It would be odd of him. Out of character. They always watched a movie on Sunday night together, so what was he supposed to do?

He could always go and slip the toy out of himself?

The devil on his shoulder wouldn’t let him though - he was living on an edge of thrills and desire. However, Bucky needed to know where the remote was, it had to be somewhere close, a place where he was pressing against it. He crept a hand down the side of the sofa, having already checked there, but it was the most logical place. 

His fingers grasped nothing.

Then the plug went off with no warning, this time longer than earlier and a hundred times more intense. Bucky gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly, hoping that it wouldn’t crack under his grip. 

_ Holy fuck _ ... it was good. So good. Bucky shifted in place, glad the toy was silent within his body and chanced a look over at Steve, completely oblivious to Bucky’s plight as he stared at the TV, pointing the remote and typing in codes to set up their network. Bucky let out a long slow breath, grabbing the throw cushion he was leaning against and pressed it to his front to hide a rather rapidly growing issue. The vibrations eased, and finally he could take in a deep full inhale.

He should leave right?

He should let Steve do his thing and set up the TV.

Which would mean Bucky would have time to run to his room and strip off naked, taking his dick in hand to stroke himself to completion. Because the way the toy was hitting all his sweet spots right there, on the sofa, next to Steve as Steve’s musk and sweat from carrying the TV up the stairs earlier surrounded him on all sides - Bucky would be lucky to last a minute. He stifled a manic laugh. A minute was being extremely generous; he’d get one fingertip on his dick and it would be spurting like a geyser that had been under pressure for a thousand years.

“Almost there, just a minute more,” Steve murmured and Bucky had to shake himself back into reality, Steve was talking about the channels, not how long Bucky would last if he palmed himself and let go, to come in his sweats like a teenager with no control.

_ Fucking hell _ . The vibrations had started up again, pulsing every couple of seconds or so, and Bucky couldn’t work it out. His brain was an entwined pathway to pleasure and confusion, all melding to make him floaty and languid. He wanted to spread his knees apart, take up space, melt into the couch while the toy brought him to completion untouched. Right there with Steve watching him.

The incessant throbbing moved to a dull thud, and Bucky cleared his head as much as he was able, knowing that if the remote wasn’t in the sofa being unintentionally pressed, maybe the device was faulty. His blood went cold - was it dangerous to still be inside of him?

Before he could freak out or allow the panic to take over, the vibrations and intensity stopped altogether, and that's when he noticed Steve holding out the TV remote towards him. Bucky eyed it in Steve’s massive palm, it was smaller than their last one and had fewer buttons, and in Steve’s hand it was dwarfed. Bucky felt like he had double vision for a moment, his stomach clenching in want, because it was almost the same shape as the remote for the plug, and in Steve’s hand - his thoughts started to get carried away.

“You sure you’re ok, Buck?”

“Never better,” Bucky croaked out, and ignored the small disbelieving hum from Steve as he took the remote in his own hand. “So the remote…”

“Alright, yeah, okay, so just press this one to turn the TV on and off,” Steve demonstrated as he spoke, depressing the button as it sat in Bucky’s hand and Bucky’s fingers curled over and grasped the remote tightly in his palm as the toy suddenly flared up, shuddering on a high and fast intensity. He was going to come, right there, right in front of Steve, who was looking directly at him with questions in his eyes.

Bucky was in no way, shape or form ready or able to disclose how there were two very distinct livewires running up his spine, making him want to writhe, want to call out. No longer was he worried about being in danger from a rogue broken plug, because if what was occuring was a fault, he was there for it. He could feel the beginnings of sweat beading on his neckline, knew that Steve would soon be able to smell his arousal, the scent of pre-come as it leaked from his dick. And it was the hardest thing in his life to try and look impassive, like his insides were not screaming in pleasure, threatening to overwhelm him at a second’s notice.

It was absolutely phenomenal.

“Got it,” Bucky managed to rasp through clenched teeth.

“Okay…” Steve drawled, face screwing up in confusion at Bucky’s behaviour before he continued. “Now these two are your volume controls. Pretty self explanatory, but I want to show you how loud it goes.”

Bucky nodded, still trying desperately to come down from the last barrage of intermittent pulses. And just as he started to control himself, Bucky’s brain overrode all self-preservation and he actively scented Steve, inhaling deeply to get every last tangy sweat molecule from the surrounding air, take in the maleness of him, the utter sex that would be Steve sweaty and leaning over Bucky, caging him in, perspiration dripping off his brow onto Bucky’s face, body, being smothered in the salty brine of his masculinity.

And it was when Steve’s fingers hit the volume button, pressing rapidly in quick succession that Bucky lost it. The toy going completely insane deep in his body, vibrating and nudging, long and slow, not stopping, not relenting in its attentions at all - it kept going and going and going until all Bucky could hear was his heartbeat in his ears as he begged his body not to come everywhere, to hold on for a moment longer. He almost didn’t realise when Steve began to yell at him,  _ over _ the volume control. Steve’s eyes were thankfully glued to the TV and Bucky knew he had seconds to escape, else make a wreck of himself  _ and _ their friendship.

“Toilet,” he struggled out.

Steve promptly hit the volume button again, the crescendo of noise lessening and Bucky released his hold on the remote, seizing up when the toy gave another round of persistent and steady beats, somehow finding its way to be pressed against his prostate when he’d squirmed it unintentionally into position. Bucky knew his dick was jerking, knew pre-come was leaking steadily from the tip, and he couldn’t stay there any longer, making a mess of himself. If he did, he might end up asking Steve to clean him up, then make him messy again - and he couldn’t. Steve had never looked at Bucky in that way, never hinted that he found him attractive, and Bucky was weak - half out of his head in horniness that he couldn’t cope any longer.

He jumped up off the sofa abruptly, making a bee-line for the bathroom, the volume still decreasing as the toy twitched deep inside of him. His legs unsteady, and he fell against the wall as white heat hit him in the gut, hoping Steve wasn’t watching or hearing his ridiculous departure.

As Bucky slammed the bathroom door behind him, he heard Steve changing channels, and confident he wasn’t about to be disturbed, Bucky slid his sweats down over his ass. They hit the floor with no sound and he stood over the sink, allowing himself to finally writhe on the toy that kept moving every so often, thrumming, rotating his hips to maximise the pleasure coursing through his body. The first touch to his reddened and swollen dick was a religious experience, and Bucky wasted no time, jerking himself quickly, efficiently and quietly, his brain mocking him for not being able to hold on like the man he was, the  _ experienced _ man he was. But at that particular moment, he didn’t care at all. Bucky just needed to come quickly, remove the plug and check the settings, go online and search for what was happening and if he should be concerned.

He came within a minute, cries of release muffled in the crook of his elbow, aiming the best he could at the sink, watching the white globs hit the off-green ceramic, oozing down towards the plughole as it was forced, spluttering and jerking, from his body.

Sweet, sweet relief filled him, travelling from the tingling in his toes, to the fuzziness of his brain, the toy blessedly quiet for a moment. Bucky breathed, and took a moment to reflect on what an insane half hour he’d just experienced. And even if the toy  _ did _ have an unknown fault, he almost didn’t want to return it, it was fucking extraordinary.

He quickly cleaned himself and the sink up, aware Steve was waiting for his return and flushed the toilet, splashing water over his burning face, wincing when he saw the glint in his eye, the glowing colour of his skin.

Bucky looked debauched, like he was waiting to be thrown down on the floor to be fucked six ways from Sunday and he… he really wanted that - wanted  _ Steve _ to do that to him. But that scenario wasn’t his reality, it was his lust addled mind turning Steve into a sex god; that, and the fact he’d heard Steve too many times making other people cry out and weep for release. 

Bucky was going to hell for all the thoughts he had about Steve.

It was worth it.

As he made his triumphant return to the sofa, coming up behind Steve who had a list of feature films on the screen, Steve looked back over his shoulder at Bucky.

“Want to watch a movie? I think we can get any of these without paying extra.”

He looked so hopeful, that even though all Bucky wanted to do was curl up in a post orgasmic haze, he could never deny Steve anything. It was going to be his downfall, he knew it.

“Sure,” Bucky replied, “I’ll go grab us those sea salt chips I got the other day and another beer.”

But as he returned towards the sofa, the plug vibrated once, and clearly he’d come so hard in the bathroom that it damaged the memory part of his brain as he’d completely forgotten to take the damn thing out.

He was an idiot.

Bucky’s plan was to throw the chips onto the sofa next to Steve and quickly retreat to his room to remove it, clean it and put it away safely until the charge ran down. But as he walked towards the sofa, the toy shook him from the inside again, then again, then again and it was only when he was standing almost directly behind Steve ready to fling both chips and beer into the ether and make a run for it, that something clicked into place.

The plug seemed to vibrate each time the cursor on the screen moved.

But that didn’t make sense. It had to be a trick of his mind, right?

Steve flicked the cursor to the next movie to read its synopsis, and stopped, the plug made a move inside of him once, on a low frequency, nice, polite, not too intense. Then Steve hit the back button and moved the cursor across four times, landing on Prometheus the plug once again playing a methodical drum beat against the walls of his ass, exactly five times.

“No,” he breathed, “No fucking way…”

“What’s that, Buck?” Steve asked over his shoulder, reaching out with a smile for a beer that Bucky numbly placed in to his waiting hand.

“Errr, nothing - but…” Bucky paused, not believing what he was about to ask, “Do you want to show me how high that volume can go again?”

Steve glanced back again with a wide grin, excited that Bucky seemed to be taking a keen interest in the TV, and Bucky just might be. For a completely different reason.

“Sure, I mean, we can’t go this loud often, if at all, because of the neighbours.” He selected a random title to test. “But it’s pretty good, doesn’t distort at all.”

And when Steve went on about the decibels and the speaker system within the actual TV, Bucky stopped listening as Steve pressed the volume up again - fast.

He almost fell to his knees - he was too sensitive, over stimulated and it was bordering on painful, but  _ fuck, _ did it light a fire underneath him. How the hell could Steve’s new remote for his TV be controlling Bucky’s vibrating plug - that couldn’t be possible? Surely?

The room was doused in sound, the loud cacophony of voices erupting from the speakers, screaming at them for attention, all while the plug screamed deep inside of Bucky for a different type of attention. And as he stood on shaky legs gripping the back of the sofa white knuckled, Bucky almost keeled over with the biggest realisation of his life.

As Steve pressed the volume to revert it back to a civilised level, one where their ears were not bleeding, Bucky’s dick gave a valiant attempt at getting hard, because, Steve…  _ Steve _ was controlling the plug inside of him,  _ without _ even knowing it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - I need to take a breath - because guys... GUYS - your response to this absolute crazy idea of mine is overwhelming! I had no idea how many other people wanted to read a fic about a rogue remote control controlling Bucky's... *cough* pleasure... I thought it was just me!
> 
> So thankyou from the bottom of my little heart for taking the chance and that leap of faith to read this - and to everyone who has subscribed, read, kudoed, favourited and commented - you've made my cheeks crack from a huge giddy smile.
> 
> Now - let's see what new trouble Bucky can get up to (you saw that slow burn tag - didn't you? lol)
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky, for obvious reasons, didn’t use his new toy for a few days afterwards. He was a little spooked _and_ extremely turned on by what he’d discovered. The sheer fact that Steve’s new remote control could somehow connect to his plug had to be unheard of, and his quick search on the internet only came up with a few unsubstantiated claims for ‘plug hacks’ and half ramblings on bluetooth and wifi devices getting confused with the other. Nothing like what he’d experienced. 

And experienced it, he had.

He was already craving to play again, but in the meantime jerking off seemed to be doing wonders; as the idea that Steve had unwittingly found the control to the toy buried deep in Bucky, was fodder for a slew of fantasies.

Yet his time was coming, he’d cleared Friday night the moment Steve said he was going out with the boys, cancelling his plans with Nat and Darcy to spend the night in, alone. Some people might find that a sad use of his time - Bucky on the other hand, was half hard all day in anticipation.

Steve of course had asked him along to drinks, the invite coming just before he left, and when Bucky said he was going to have an early night as work had kicked his ass all week, he thought he saw a tinge of disappointment in Steve’s eyes, and almost relented. But he didn’t.

So as soon as Steve departed, looking delectable in a pair of light blue jeans and a white henley that looked more Bucky’s size than Steve’s, he readied himself with that image in his mind for Stefan to wear, to help things along. 

Bucky spent an inordinate amount of time in the shower, cleaning himself, teasing with his fingers and palms, fantasising about what was to come. The room steamed up until he could hardly breathe, the water hot on his skin, pinkening like somebody had spanked him, marked him up - like Steve had laid his huge palm on him with a sharp rough smack. And just as he was gasping for air against the oppressive heat, he got out, already at his limit, needing a moment to recalibrate and calm down.

The reviews also did not mention that thinking about using the plug could induce a reaction that might be classed as _premature_.

Therefore to soothe himself, to keep things moving at a nice steady pace, he decided to go all out and use some of the half forgotten body moisturiser from the back of the bathroom cupboard. It contained aloe vera, and must have been Steve’s, but the coolness on his skin was a welcome distraction and Bucky enjoyed the motion of rubbing it in completely until his skin was radiant and smooth.

Soon he was back in his room, feeling soft, relaxed and more than ready for the next part of his night. Hours stretched out before him and he was in no rush whatsoever. And although he couldn’t wait to treat himself, there was a small part of him, _okay_ , a large part, that wished he had someone else to do the treating, who would take away the mundane choices and just look out and give him what he craved without having to ask. Would just know. When Steve’s face once again popped into his mind, he sighed. 

“Bucky, you need to get a grip - Steve isn’t yours. Probably wouldn’t be into all this anyway.” He wasn’t sure if that was true but he had to tell himself something, else the pining he’d been hiding the last six months or so would bubble up and out. Stefan was not working out it seemed, Steve was too compelling.

He was _not_ falling for his housemate. Especially one that didn’t seem interested in pursuing him, he’d been there and done that - never again. Although at least Steve wasn’t straight like Carl.

The next ten minutes were spent spreading out an old sheet over his comforter, and readying both himself and the plug, he didn’t care about the mess, the squelching sounds, how loud his gasps were - he was in utter bliss. And when he was ready enough, Bucky started to push the plug into his body, lubed up, slippery, teasing himself with shallow thrusts, slow, deep then harder until he was all but fucking himself of the black plastic. Just as he threw out his hand to grab hold of the remote to finally turn it on, to make it jump within him until he came untouched, the toy ramped up, shaking - at the same as the TV blared to life in the living room. 

Bucky sat bolt up on the bed, slamming a hand over his mouth as the plug vibrated directly against his prostate with no warning, and for a split second he thought it was all over, he was going to come everywhere after edging himself for an hour, but then the buzz changed to a low quiet vibration.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, adjusting the angle as to which he was sitting, leaning back to ease the pressure as the plug kept its slow and steady pace.

He’d not heard Steve come home, so lost in the sensations, of toying with himself, for spending time to do things properly that he’d completely missed Steve’s entrance. And not only that - Steve wasn’t alone, he could hear Sam’s deep timbre too.

“Where’s your boy at?”

Steve let out a quick shush, Bucky hearing Sam chuckle in response and he wondered why Steve was whispering in quieter tones, and tried to crane to hear more, but couldn’t. He was otherwise too occupied to listen carefully, but then the toy suddenly switched off. Bucky sighed in relief, able to breathe freely without holding his whole body taut, staving off his climax.

“Probably not, he might be in bed, early night and all.” Steve said loud enough for Bucky to hear, but he’d missed the conversation prior to properly follow what was going on.

“No worries, but you should do that. Look, I guarantee it’ll be fine. He’s - alright man, don’t give me that look. I’ll catch up with him next time.”

Bucky liked Sam, he really did, he was a good bro, a great friend to Steve and had taken to Bucky straight away; their snarky humour bouncing off each other, and he loved the way Steve would sit back with a grin and watch them go back and forth like a referee in tennis. But he couldn’t go out into the living room like he was, he was an absolute crying mess, flushed, dishevelled, had clearly been having sex with himself. Yet he’d not quite got there. He'd not _actually_ completed, and now he was in a quandary.

Did he stop immediately - or did he continue? And if he continued, a dark part of his brain asked him, should he use his own control, or sit on the bed and have Steve control it each time he changed channels and volume?

Of course Bucky’s mind immediately went to one place, and one place only.

He wanted Steve to be in control, Bucky wanted his pleasure at _Steve’s_ fingertips, be at his mercy. And what made it all that much naughtier and thrilling, was the fact Steve had no idea at all.

Bucky was officially a deviant, he was not only going to hell, but knew he’d be where demons shoved pineapples into his ass constantly, purely because he liked to put things up there already, and what greater punishment than to make it something he’d hate.

Though a small pineapple might… _no._

He waited for all of five minutes, the sound of beers clinking filtered under his door, two distinct voices joked and teased about what team would win, both rooting for opposite sides, and although Bucky wanted to watch football with them - he wanted to come even more.

So he made himself as comfortable as he could, and with bated breath, waited to see what would happen.

He didn’t have to wait long.

The blare of the TV commenced as Steve went through the channels looking for ESPN, and each time Bucky heard the changing of voices or music as it flicked onto a different program, the intensity of the plug built up. Clenching his teeth, Bucky held back a moan, one, not even twenty minutes earlier he would have let escape without a care in the world. He waited a moment and shifted, trying to find a better position, but he craved more, needed extra stimulation and not just from the inside. He knew immediately he didn’t want to touch himself, that was too easy - there was no fun in that. 

Glancing around the room, he saw a glint in the dim light and a burst of inspiration hit as he grabbed the large freestanding mirror, placing it at the foot of his bed once more. Bucky pulled the sheet down to cover the lower half of his comforter and splayed himself across it, angling his hips, legs as wide open as he could get and then rested himself up on his elbows. And that was perfect, exactly what he was after, Bucky could now see the base of the plug in the reflection, the small black tag poking from his hole.

Once his vision adjusted to the sight and as the newness of it wore off, he found he couldn’t drag his eyes away, no matter how much he wanted to, because now, _now,_ Bucky could see it pulsing, the tight skin of his rim quivering as the plug increased and decreased in tempo. He spread his legs even further apart, the burn delightful as the throbbing continued. 

And he could see it all. 

Bucky was enraptured, gaze unwavering, unblinking, completely enamoured at the fact it was Steve in control, making him feel good, and Bucky had no idea what was coming next.

His brain frizzled at the edges, sensations sparked throughout him as his thighs began to tremble from holding himself open, and paired with the persistent rumbling that hadn’t ceased, just increased and decreased in intensity, he barely heard what Steve and Sam were up to. 

Every so often a burst of loud laughter infiltrated his buzz, the lust haze that clouded him as Bucky’s eyes devoured his greedy hole, eating the toy, wanting to come, but also wanting to last, to torture himself as long as possible. There were no expectations with his play that night, if he were still alone, he probably would have finished already and been in bed asleep, exhausted but sated. Yet he was holding on, fisting the sheet in a tight grip as his hips undulated in time to the movements inside of him. The pace wasn’t relentless, no, it was quite disjointed and stopped and started more often than not, but that’s what created the anticipation, heightened every change, had him whimpering quietly, but _Christ,_ did he want to scream from the rooftops. Throwing his head back, Bucky shut his eyes against the incredible view and just felt, let himself be at one with what was happening to his body, refusing to touch his dick, not yet, maybe not at all. Bucky let the fact that he wasn’t in control wash over him, that it wasn’t _his_ fingers to depress the buttons, to choose how far he pushed himself, or let it go, there was no inkling at all what would happen next, or for how long, or what setting, or if it would stop completely.

It was addictive and the most delicious situation he’d ever been in.

His pleasure was not his own, someone else held it in their hands. Not just someone though, _Steve_.

Bucky couldn’t help it and relented, reaching down his body, lingering to pinch a nipple, then moved lower to graze against the side of his twitching dick, to tug on the exposed part of the plug, making it move before pushing it in further, pressing and holding until it was right up against his prostate, humming softly. His one remaining elbow gave out and he landed flat on his back, dick slapping against his stomach obscenely, pre-come oozing from the tip in sticky globs, the sloppy sound somehow more dirty than what he was currently doing to himself. 

But laying down wasn’t ideal - he wanted to see, he wanted so badly to watch. 

Gingerly he got back up on his elbow, ignoring the pain from being in the one position for too long and stared down his body, gaze glancing off his twitching wet dick until it landed back onto the mirror. His breath caught at how wanton he looked, how absolutely debauched, how utterly desperate he was to be fucked raw.

An advert blared in under his door, louder than expected and he jerked in confusion, forgetting where he was and that there were other people nearby. Then, as the volume decreased swiftly, Bucky suddenly found his voice and with more self preservation than he thought himself capable of, he grabbed a pillow, shoving it into his mouth as far as he could without choking. Steve’s quick taps had changed the setting on the plug so rapidly that it had gone to full vibration, Bucky’s toes curled, back arching up off the bed until only his feet and head were pressed against the soiled sheets.

Panting, he breathed through it, vision blurring as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, rolling down his temples to pool on his bed, mingling with the sweat and saliva already present. It was too much, the pressure inside of him was going to make him pass out, he was only human, he couldn’t hang on - he’d tried, but he was lost. 

“Holy _fuck_ , Jesus… Steve, yes, Christ, Steve… please… more... I need...” his moans were muffled until the moment the TV went dead silent.

“What was that man?”

“Oh, I thought I heard something,” Steve’s voice said loudly - too loudly.

Bucky froze, the plug still moving, thrumming, thankfully not as hard as seconds earlier, but the sudden silence wasn’t what pulled Bucky from his impending orgasm, it was that Steve’s voice had come from just outside his bedroom door. What the hell was Steve doing there? Was he about to walk in? Oh fuck, had he heard Bucky calling his name, begging like a whore to be filled up and fucked? To be fair, it wasn’t far from the truth, Bucky _was_ stark naked, sweating and writhing around, staring at his pulsing hole in a mirror, and if Steve did knock - Bucky might just be out of it enough to tell him to walk in.

He shouldn’t have let his thoughts sit there for longer than a second, because Bucky became lost in a vision of Steve standing in the doorframe, mouth agape, eyes blown wide, yelling to Sam that he had to leave immediately, then stalking forward, a low growl erupting from his throat.

A noise outside distracted Bucky from his fantasy for a second, Steve presumably moving on to the bathroom, and soon Bucky was caught once more in the thrall of his imagination, holding in a whimper at the thought of Steve standing next to him, unzipping his pants, pulling his huge dick out, stroking it into full hardness before yanking Bucky around until his ass was on the edge of the bed. He’d then push Bucky’s knees up until he was completely exposed, and Steve, still not having said a word the whole time, would let his finger trail over the toy, around it, pulling and pushing, testing the girth, then with a feral smile thrust a finger in beside it.

“I’ll grab us another beer - alright?’’

“Fuck,” Bucky’s hips jerked as the TV blared to life again and Steve and Sam’s voices blended together as they chatted about the game.

Bucky, meanwhile was a mess, a filthy mess. On one hand he never wanted the torture to be over, he wanted to be indefinantly on the cusp of orgasm, of never knowing what would tip him over or when. But there was also another part of him, a larger part that needed to come. 

Now.

He’d never been too patient, not when he was in control anyway, he needed someone else to deny him - he’d lasted as long as he could by himself.

Sliding a hand back over his full and tender hole, he swiped excess lube onto his fingers, and finally with no finesse or teasing, took his dick in hand, stroking hard, brutal and fast.

Bucky was on the edge, so close, so _fucking_ close.

Tingles erupted throughout him, starting at his toes, drowning his body in a wave until his vision whited out, and at the last second as his hand flew over his dick, squeezing tightly, twisting over the head, the plug came alive and he couldn’t stop it.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky yelled into the empty room as he came and came, hot white stripes hitting his chest, slopping on the underside of his chin, warm and sticky, while his thighs trembled uncontrollably, hole tightening over the unrelenting thud of the toy.

“Buck, you ok?”

It was the knock he’d been both hoping for and dreading. He was not prepared, not in the slightest.

“Err, yeah, I’m fine. All good.”

“Okay…” Steve paused, “It’s just that you sounded -”

“I stubbed my toe on the dresser,” he managed to get out in a strangle before Steve could finish his thought. Or walk in.

“Oh, right - well it's half time, did you want to watch the rest of the game with us? It’s just Sam and me."

Bucky shut his eyes against the question, hoping his addled brain would answer for him, “I'm actually beat pal, I might crash. But say hi for me.” 

He should _actually_ spend time to clean up the humoungous mess he’d made, and looking around he realised he was essentially inhaling sperm - plus how the fuck did it get in his ear?

“Okay, uh, see you in the morning?”

“Yep, in the morning, bright and hard… uh, early,” Bucky managed, too tired to care about his slip up, his words starting to slur together. He was beat. Stifling an exhausted giggle, he realised he was beat in more ways than one.

Bucky’s entire body relaxed as Steve moved away from the door, until he heard the TV volume increase again. He carefully pulled the still vibrating plug from his body and left it writhing on the sheet.

“Well fuck,” he whispered into the room, “That was intense.”

  
  


“Want to head out for a drink and get something to eat?”

Bucky was sitting next to Steve on the sofa, mucking around on his phone and half watching a documentary on megastructures of the world they’d both seen before - sans plug. He’d not worn it again while Steve was home, still a bit gun shy that he’d almost been caught out. 

“I was going to order in. You don’t have plans then?” Bucky asked, surprised at Steve’s question. It was a Friday evening and Steve almost always had a date or friends to go out and socialise with.

Steve ducked his head and looked at his phone quickly, “um, yeah, no plans tonight, just thought it might be nice to head out. Together I mean. If you want…”

Shrugging, Buck tried to tamper his heartbeat that suddenly decided to take notice of the proceedings and thump a little harder. “Sure, just to Harry’s?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, Bucky watching the motion in interest. “I was actually wanting to try the Italian place two blocks over, you know the one, on the corner?”

“The one with the checked cloths and the tables that are really small?”

Steve nodded, staring directly into Bucky’s eyes, and for some reason Bucky’s throat went thick when he tried to swallow.

“Sure, let me get out of my sweats, I might even put pants on for a change.” He joked.

Bucky jumped up, trying to work out why this particular invite to get dinner felt different from the other three hundred times they’d gone to Harry's sports bar or similar. As he left the room he swore he heard Steve say something under his breath about ‘not on his account’ but Bucky would pay his share for dinner, always did.

Ten minutes later they were walking, Bucky pulling his coat up over his ears, the chill in the air more pronounced as the months had passed by.

“So what’s the occasion for Italian, you scoping this place out to take a date?” Bucky teased.

Steve’s steps slowed, and Bucky looked over at him, surprised to find him staring directly back, eyebrows furrowed, before sighing. “Yeah, exactly that.”

Bucky plastered on a smile, he’d always known that he had no right to Steve, had no right to be jealous of his outings with others. And he could have made a move all those months ago, but they lived together, he didn’t want it to be awkward if Steve shot him down. Plus the few people that he’d seen leaving Steve’s room at various times were nothing like Bucky, not that many were alike to each other either, but Bucky definitely didn’t measure up. 

He had to snap out of his unhelpful thoughts.

“Well Sir, treat me right on this date and you never know _what_ will happen,” Bucky joked with an exaggerated wink, and instead of the laugh he expected, Steve took a large breath before swallowing, his gaze burned deeper into Bucky before the corner of his mouth crooked upwards.

“Oh I think it will be very much the other way around - _you’ll_ never know what’s coming. If you’re good for me that is.”

Bucky’s stomach swooped at the words, the teasing lilt he expected not in the tone, Steve sounded dead serious and _Christ,_ Bucky was desperate for it, wanting the words to be for him. _Meant_ for him alone.

“Uh…”

“You seemed to have been staying in a lot recently,” Steve carried on as if he’d not just shattered Bucky’s brain with what ifs, “Plus I figure I’ve been stuck in front of the TV for too long.”

“Well you _did_ buy it.” Bucky threw out, his mind slowly scraping back some normalcy.

Steve laughed, “don’t lie and say you don’t enjoy it immensely.”

Bucky choked as they made it to the front door of the restaurant, “Yeah I do, I honestly do.”

Steve looked at him askanse for a moment but made no other comment, opening the door for him instead, motioning Bucky in out of the cold. 

They were immediately seated at the window, their server lighting the candle on the miniscule table as Bucky hung his coat over the back of his chair, watching Steve do the same, his broad shoulders freed from the confines of his peacoat only to reveal a snug and extremely flattering button down in a deep blue. And as Bucky sat there gaping while Steve asked for some table water, he was struck by how the shirt made Steve’s eyes pop, and knew he was going to be hard pressed keeping his mind on track through dinner. Remembering that it wasn’t a date at all, but two housemates getting a bite to eat together.

Twenty minutes later as they ate breadsticks and Steve teased Bucky for having the knobbiest knees known to man that continually dug into his; Bucky knew he’d be better off staying at home with his plug in, edging him along at unknown intervals and living his life alone. Because nothing could have ever prepared him for the onslaught of ‘date’ Steve - ‘going out’ Steve, ‘ _charming,_ friendly’ Steve.

At home, Steve was generally a goof, a big dork, and was relatable in a comfortable unassuming way. Even going to the sports bar, though unfairly handsome, he was still one of the boys. But out in a restaurant, dressed up without the guys around, staring at Bucky across a candlelit table, no matter the jokes flying between them - he was sex on legs.

By the time the mains had been served, Bucky was in trouble. More trouble than he’d ever been in before.

Not only did he want Steve to fuck him raw, make him beg for it, then take care of him afterwards until he was a limp body unable to even swallow without assistance; he also wanted to go on more dinner dates, cuddle on the sofa, kiss Steve anytime he wanted and fall asleep next to him.

Bucky wanted a relationship with Steve. 

He was so screwed. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like every chapter might start with me saying how overwhelmed I am at the response this story has attracted. I love you all so dearly for honestly jumping straight in feet first and letting me take you on this journey that even I don't understand how it came about.
> 
> Chapter count is updated and we will see how that goes 😉 these boys have a little bit to explore...
> 
> So here we go - dive on in - but first I just want to remind you all that these two men are very consenting adults, and even if situations seem a little crazy or strange if we were in them, they are both all for it (enthusiastically I might add).
> 
> Thanks for reading all!

Bucky spent the next few days trying to forget his untimely revelation, it wouldn't do him any good to pine over Steve more than he already had been. A relationship wasn't on the cards, they were good friends and Bucky had to be happy with that. He was lucky in fact, he got to see Steve all rumpled in the morning and grumpy before his third coffee, tired and soft at night, and wandering around with a towel hooked over his hips, damp from a shower, on a regular basis. Who needed to add sex and love to that? Bucky sighed…  _ he _ did. 

So steeling himself, he pushed those wants aside, but it was one thing for his mind to make that decision, another for the rest of his body to listen. Because his body most definitely still wanted Steve.

Therefore the most logical course of action was to try to orgasm it out of himself - alone.

Knowing Steve would be out most of the day at his drawing class that Saturday, Bucky readied himself, feeling cheekier than usual, and had successfully worn the plug on and off all day, allowing himself to only come once. But he had his sights set on more. There was something satisfying about walking around the apartment, his tight hole jammed full, the way the excess lube squished out between his cheeks, how the soft plastic coating felt almost flesh-like when wetted up and inserted. Bucky loved that when he walked, if he put a small jiggle in his step, an exaggerated waggle to his hips, the toy would press and chafe in a way that made him feel sexy, desirable, and  _ so _ damn horny it sent him to a heightened plane. 

Thankfully over the few weeks he’d been playing with his indispensable plug, he’d managed to desensitize himself to a degree, no longer sporting an instant boner when it slid in. Bucky could now comfortably have it seated, pressing and pushing with no ill effect, nor have his face and body give him away. He’d been practising in front of the mirror enough by himself that he was relatively proficient at hiding the sensations running through him, or so he hoped.

Yet there was one thing he’d not quite mastered, and that was his excitement when in the same room as Steve whilst wearing it. Steve, who had absolutely no idea Bucky was full, open, and at any time could take Steve’s hard dick in one swift movement. And that’s what turned him on the most - the idea of Steve taking him no matter the scenario, no matter the time, no matter the location. Earlier that morning when making coffee, the sweep of Bucky’s body against Steve’s as they navigated the small kitchen together had made him wish Steve had spun him around, pressed him against the counter to roughly tug Bucky’s sweats down around his ankles, only to discover that he could push himself deep with little to no preparation and sit there; his dick kept warm and snug in Bucky’s ass and he’d squeeze, just to make Steve feel good.  _ Hell _ , he’d give Steve anything he wanted. All he had to do was ask. To take.

But.

Steve was his housemate, and Bucky’s outrageous fantasy game was starting to creep into his everyday life, his errant thoughts. It wasn’t good practise to be so lust addled and addicted to someone out of reach. And Bucky had tried to let it go, but the claws of  _ want _ dug deep.

Even the last few times Bucky had dressed up and headed out with the specific goal to get laid, he’d come home alone, he just couldn’t… finish the hunt - he had a mental block and never managed to go through with it, no one at all measuring up to what he was looking for.  _ Steve _ . And it wasn’t just for Steve’s looks, his stature, his imposing and dominant persona. Bucky knew it was the whole package.

In the early days, both Steve and Bucky brought people back to their apartment, and Bucky had soon cottoned on to how Steve treated his one night stands, both male  _ and _ female, finding himself straining to hear Steve’s deep commanding voice through the bedroom walls, telling his conquest of the night how to take him, how he was going to make them scream until they were hoarse. And  _ fuck _ \- if Bucky didn’t blow quickly thinking about that low direct voice, as his hand stripped his dick quick and efficiently, not able to hold on for long. 

Yet what got to Bucky like an unscratchable itch under his skin that kept spreading so he couldn’t contain or resolve it, was when Bucky caught a glimpse of someone as they slunk out the apartment, the women with looks of pure enrapturement and soft smiles that Bucky had never experienced after a one-night stand - but it was the men that Bucky could never get out of his mind. Their glassy, dazed and completely fucked out faces, the small but obvious limp, the red marks on their necks, hair that had been clearly pulled taut. He envied those men, the blissed out and floating demeanor they carried like a well earned badge, as if they wouldn’t come down for hours.

Steve by all accounts - could fuck like a master. And it made Bucky ache in want.

Bucky noticed though, that as the months passed by, those strangers in the hall had disappeared as had Bucky’s (who were never as numerous or left sated like Steve’s guests) until it had been over two months and neither of them had brought anyone home. He wondered if Steve spent time elsewhere when he met someone for a change of scenery, as there was no way a man like Steve, with his specific desires, would go without sex for longer than a day. It was a crime if he was. 

Bucky blamed his lack of game on a combination of the new toy and his proximity to Steve, then add in the fact whenever Steve watched TV, Bucky almost always went to bed three times out of five early, so he could shove the plug inside his ass and let Steve take him on a ride.

Was it wrong?

Of course it was.

Was Bucky going to stop?

No way in hell.

What Steve didn’t realise wouldn’t hurt him, no matter the ethical dilemma that always made Bucky question if he should continue. But what they said about addiction was true, he was in it’s snare, and couldn’t find a way out.

So when Bucky settled down to read a book on the sofa that late Saturday afternoon, wriggling his hips in a circular motion before reaching into his pants to adjust the plug so it sat within him better, he realised he’d made a mistake. Because just that small adjustment made him gasp, see stars, and it took everything in his reserves to not run to the bedroom, whip the remote out and buzz his way to the orgasm of the century. He was so lost in his small fantasy, hand stuffed down the back of his sweats, grinding on the plug, that he didn’t hear Steve arrive home until a deep voice asked, "You okay Buck?"

Bucky’s hand slid out of his pants so quickly he worried he’d done damage to the tendons in his wrist from the sudden jerk. His face burned, shame filled his gut as it churned - he was mortified. How was he supposed to explain what he’d just been doing? But when he looked up, Steve was placing his art bag down by the door with a smile on his face, no shock or disapproval in sight, and Bucky realised that thankfully the angle of the sofa meant Steve wouldn’t have seen where his hand had come from, what he’d been doing to himself. Christ, his face had to have given something away though.

Bucky needed to be more careful.

“I’m, err… great,” Bucky replied in a semi-breathless tone, and at Steve’s pointed look he forced a nonchalant smile, holding up his book for good measure to indicate that was what had him in a rapture. He’d wished he’d grabbed something other than The Silmarillion, it was pretty heavy going, “just reading.”

Steve stared at Bucky a little longer, an unreadable expression on his face before running a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, like he was psyching himself up for something and Bucky waited, not wanting to break the moment, curious as to what Steve had on his mind. Suddenly resolve flashed in Steve’s eyes and he nodded to himself once.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Steve finally asked, lip curling into a soft smirk, and Bucky felt his breath stall. “Might flick the channels a bit, see what’s on.”

“ _ Oh, _ ” Bucky immediately clamped his thighs together, the anticipation already at twenty on a scale of one-to five. Steve watched him closely and Bucky knew he was acting a little odd, so nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah, sounds fine, if you find something good, I might give this away for a bit.”

Steve gave him a toothy grin, “I’m sure I can find something…  _ distracting _ for you.”

And as Steve turned towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder that he was grabbing them a drink, Bucky let out a whoosh of air. How the hell did Steve make watching TV sound so lewd, so sexual? It had to be because Bucky was caught wearing the plug again, having lost track of time. It heightened everything, and the knowledge that as soon as Steve’s huge hand picked up the small remote and pressed just one button - Bucky could have anything from the lightest flutter to an all out pounding shaking his ass apart. 

Bucky was so lost in thoughts of how he was going to handle himself this time, that when Steve came back with a couple of drinks and landed on the sofa next to him, he jumped, then winced internally as he accepted the bottle, glad his features remained impassive. He could do this, he’d been practising for weeks now. Then, as if in slow motion, Bucky watched Steve pick up the remote, press the power button, and brought the plug to life. Bucky shut his eyes against the soft pulsing sensation.

It felt like coming home.

“You sure you’re okay bud?”

Bucky’s eyes flew open immediately to find the blue of Steve’s directly on him. He nodded in response, that yes, he was - then looked down at his book not seeing anything on the page except a blur of words.

After a beat, Steve looked away and changed the channel, Bucky’s body unintentionally seizing up as the intensity increased tenfold, and Bucky was certain if he tried to stand, his knees would give way and he’d be a writhing heap on the floor. Steve’s eyes swung towards him, and Bucky couldn’t help but stare back, face heating, body tense from holding himself still, knowing that his eyes were starting to unfocus at the edges. He had no idea how that  _ one _ insignificant button tap had pushed the plug into its highest gear; the setting that made Bucky come with a shout and shudder in under a minute. And it seemed to be affecting him no differently in that moment.

“Change… uh,  _ fuck _ … change the channel. I don’t… I don’t like this show…”

Steve eyed him, questions and what looked like heat burning in their depths at Bucky’s disjointed tone, before cocking his head and flicking the channel over at a glacially slow pace. Bucky had just enough sense left to not beg Steve to hurry up, but the plug decreased in speed almost instantly, and Bucky’s brain stopped buzzing at a pitch so high it was painful to think, his breathing returned to normal and he could see through his teared up eyes. He was no longer on the cusp of exploding.

“I thought you liked Iron Chef though?”

“Oh… um, of course I do… I mean,” Bucky faltered and tried not to squirm, swallowing tightly, trying to keep up with what was happening as his ass came alive again with a methodic thud. “I... err, I saw that episode recently.”

“Okay…” Steve drawled, clearly not convinced at Bucky’s unconvincing lie, especially when a new episode banner flashed up after the ad break.

Bucky, knowing his cheeks were ruddy, looked down at the useless book in his lap, the words meaning nothing to him, it may as well have been written in Elvish. He’d never regret purchasing the plug, he couldn’t, it was practically a part of him now, but he really had to stop wearing it if he was going to be sitting right next to Steve when they watched TV.

Unbidden, and at a complete surprise to himself, Bucky suddenly let out a god awful moan, and it was definitely not of the pained variety. Steve, who’d been increasing the volume, snapped his head towards Bucky and all he could do was give a sheepish grin back.

“Sorry, it’s a good bit in the book.” 

Steve flicked his eyes down to the open pages, and raised a brow, “I didn’t think Tolkein wrote that kind of thing?”

“Oh yeah, ancient Elvish wars and the downfall of civilisations really does it for me.” It was probably the lamest sentence to have ever left Bucky’s mouth.

To his credit, Steve didn’t reply to the stupidity that had erupted from Bucky, just continued to stare until a glint in his eye appeared - a slight predatory look, but Steve slipped his eyes quickly back to the TV before Bucky could pin down what it could have meant. Bucky honestly didn’t care after that point, as Steve turned the volume up again by two notches and Bucky clamped his thighs together in a rush, looking around for a cushion to place on his lap, to hide himself, because the book was not big enough and he had a problem - a large,  _ hard _ problem.

“Why do we have so many cushions on such a small sofa?” Steve suddenly exclaimed and proceeded to grab every single last respite Bucky had within his grasp and threw them all on the ground, on  _ Steve’s _ side of the sofa, and Bucky was left wide eyed, slowly closing the book which was  _ not _ big enough to hide his issue. Heart ramping up in mild panic at being caught, Bucky raised a knee to his chest and half hugged it, the book resting on what little remained of his lap, and he chanced a small glance at Steve, only to see his lips curled up in a smile.

As Bucky willed his face into an impassive stone facade, Steve pointed the remote at the TV, slowly, exaggerated and thankful that Steve had projected his intention, Bucky braced himself for the onslaught. But Steve pressed only two buttons - very quickly, belying the smooth slow movements of a moment earlier and Bucky jolted, only minutely, and he was proud of his effort because he was extremely hazy around the edges, mind going off in tangents of sliding onto Steve’s lap, grinding down until Steve reached into Bucky’s loose pants and took him in hand.

“Sorry, what?” Bucky asked, coming to the realisation that in his lust addled and half out of his mind state that Steve had just asked him something, was staring directly at him, expecting an answer, and Bucky managed to hold his eye, willing himself to look in control and not the pervert he felt like.

Steve, gaze not wavering, holding Bucky trapped in their blue depths, clicked a button and Bucky knew he did an exceptional job of hiding his response. But Steve’s attention flicked to the corner of Bucky’s right eye, the eye that twitched due to the internal pulse that also made him bite the inside of his cheek. There was no way Steve would know why he’d reacted that way, he could blame a deficiency of magnesium if asked about the half wink.

“I asked if you’re sure you’re okay - you look… I don’t know,  _ flushed _ . A little full.”

Steve decreased the volume as he spoke, and Bucky curled his fingers cruelly into the flesh of his thigh, holding on to what was left of his sanity. For the millionth time he wondered why he allowed himself to be put in this position.

“Full?” Bucky squeaked back.

“Yeah… full.” Steve licked his lips and Bucky was going to die, “Like maybe you have too much energy, have you been to the gym lately?”

As if he had whiplash, Bucky tried to follow the conversation, mind still lingering on the soft pink tongue escaping Steve’s lips. Shaking himself from his stupor, Bucky took in the question. He  _ hadn’t _ been to the gym lately, spending too many lazy days with orgasms, and then his work had been extra demanding - he’d not had time, so he shook his head, not trusting his voice to remain at a consistent decibel. The plug was running at a manageable pace, but he knew it could change in a split second and out him, especially if he couldn’t mask his features well enough.

Steve hummed, “that might be it then, you have to work that excess energy out Buck. You’ll burst if you don’t. Look at you, basically vibrating on the spot from lack of attention.”

“Wha…. what?” Bucky breathed, Steve’s words making sense in a way that Bucky shouldn’t be taking them. He was getting off mentally with Steve’s deep voice rumbling that he should be managing himself. But he wanted _Steve_ to manage him, to take the choice from him and make him feel good, play him until he was a spent husk, then continue playing until he passed out.

“Yeah, you need to give your body the proper attention.” Steve pressed the volume down again, eyes narrowing when Bucky couldn’t stop his eye from twitching in tandem, it was the sweetest torture and Steve had no idea, he was too busy chatting about Bucky’s workout routine, and Bucky was having trouble following the conversation properly as an impending orgasm started in his gut. 

Steve was both too far away and too close and Bucky went cross-eyed with his need to come, but he couldn’t move - he had no cushions to hide behind, but he also couldn’t sit there and come in his pants untouched - though he might not have any choice in the matter if things kept going the way they were.

“I will… I prom… promise - I’ll go tomorrow.”

Steve smirked at his jerky response, lips forming a wide grin, and then unexpectedly his hand landed on Bucky’s knee and Bucky jumped ten foot in the air; his wide and desperate eyes falling to Steve, who changed the channel again looking for who knew what as he stared into Bucky's eyes the whole time. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood. He was going to come, he was actually going to come in his pants, in the living room, on the sofa next to Steve. The vibrations, the pulsing, his hole desperate and quivering, paired with Steve staring into his eyes, holding his knee, touching him while he cluelessly controlled the toy, was too much. He was unaware that Bucky was on the edge, straddling the line of orgasm and holding it inside. It was insane, he’d never been so fucking turned on in his life and he wanted to let go. It would be crossing a line too big though, an olympic triple jump over it. Steve was a friend, but  _ fuck… _

Then Steve squeezed his knee tightly, painfully.

“Can I come too?”

Bucky lost it at the smooth velvet-rich question, knowing that Steve  _ had _ to tell what was happening to him, his body, the last vestiges of his pride. He closed his eyes, dick pulsing deep gushes into his sweats, the heat and stickiness coating the inside of the fabric, onto his thighs and he was mortified. He was coming right in front of his housemate, his oblivious crush, who Bucky hoped like hell wasn’t staring at him, was hopefully looking at the TV, and considering Bucky could vaguely hear the volume increasing rapidly over the pounding in his ears, Steve must have been. But all Steve unintentionally managed to do was make the plug go crazy, and Bucky was hopelessly trying not to jerk, to moan out, staying still as his dick heaved and unloaded in his pants.

He finally came down from his euphoric rush, everything in his body on high alert, languid, yet tense, and the first thing he noticed was that the TV was loud, then that Steve’s hand was gone from his knee. Bucky opened his eyes slowly, shame and humiliation flooding his cells, but  _ those  _ particular feelings of degradation that hit his senses, was utterly delectable, slamming into his gut, making it clench more than any other sexual thought ever had in his life. He was in so fucking deep, he couldn’t get out.

Yet once his vision cleared, he saw that Steve was on his feet, his back to Bucky as he walked stiffly to the kitchen.  _ Oh shit _ , Steve had to have noticed, he’d been touching him when Bucky lost control, there was no way Steve could have missed his demise. He didn’t want to have to find a new apartment so late in the year, but he knew he’d have no choice.

“Want another beer, Pal? I need a drink.” Steve's slightly husked question came from the kitchen, and he didn’t really sound any different, nor did the tone indicate that he'd just watched Bucky come like a horny mess on their sofa. Maybe he’d not realised.

But how had he not?

How was Bucky lucky enough to dodge that particular bullet?

“Uh… yeah.” Bucky answered, coughing to get his voice to sound normal, not like he’d been dragged through gravel throat-first. “I’m just going to get changed - put on my PJ’s.”

The muffled 'okay' from the kitchen was his cue to get up and make a run for it before the scent of his come filled the living room.

He used his own remote to switch the plug off, then pulled it from his body with a hiss, he ensured he cleaned it first then wrapped it up in two t-shirts and placed it snug in his drawer so it wouldn’t continue to bounce everywhere while they watched TV. He didn’t need it rattling around so Steve would go looking to investigate.

Bucky cleaned himself up with some tissues, shoving his soiled pants into the clothes hamper, face burning as he looked at the soggy fabric, and took a second to slump onto the end of his bed, running a slow and trembling hand over his eyes. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to being discovered.

Surprisingly, he was equal parts relieved and disappointed. And if that didn’t sum up his perverse needs perfectly, he didn’t know what would.

  
  


Bucky hid for two days, though it was more hiding in plain sight rather than sitting under a blanket; but one thing was for certain, he most definitely did  _ not _ use his plug in that time. It was still tucked neatly away in the back of his drawer, charge depleted, and Bucky chased away the bereftness that came from losing the comforting feeling of being full. 

It was for the best. For now.

He was currently more concerned Steve was aware of his wayward game, that Bucky had been walking around with a toy jammed inside of himself, getting off whenever he could. The thought that Steve was only being nice to him, biding his time until he brought up how disgusting Bucky had been, then proceed to ask him to leave the apartment, wouldn't leave Bucky's brain. And even though part of him knew that if Steve wanted to kick him to the curb, Steve wasn't the type to linger and draw it out, he would have given Bucky his marching orders already; there was still that small worry it would be coming when he least expected it.

To try and stop his stomach creating an ulcer from worry, Bucky ensured he was busy, had late work meetings and early starts, anything to have only the bare minimum contact with Steve, a quick wave hello, or a salute goodbye as he rushed out the door, each time ignoring Steve as he went to speak to him. Bucky quite literally fled like the hounds of hell were on his tail. And to be fair they probably  _ were _ gunning for him.

Wasn’t the road to hell paved entirely with good intentions from men like Bucky?

As the weekend approached, Bucky had no choice but to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop and started to hang out at home more often, the cloud of being outed dissipating from true fear to a niggle at the base of his brain. And within an hour of being home together for the first time in a week, he noticed that Steve was extremely attentive, nicer, engaging on a level he never had before, and it flummoxed Bucky. And Steve's attention only continued to grow more obvious as the days passed by.

Steve for all intents and purposes was just, _around -_ always close by _._ And Bucky wasn’t sure what to think about it. 

When he made a cup of coffee, Steve suddenly required water, squeezing himself up against Bucky’s back to grab a glass from the cupboard, placing a hand on Bucky’s hip to steady himself as he waited for the water to boil on the stovetop. Crashing into each other in the laundry downstairs, Steve’s huge arms immediately came up around Bucky to steady him before he dropped his basket and fell over, he’d been flustered for three hours after that incident. Then there was the night that both of them reached into the bowl of chips when watching TV, salty fingers tangling a moment before Bucky hastily retracted his, only to watch Steve lick his clean, slowly, reverently, thoroughly. And because Bucky was so hyper aware of  _ everything _ , he chalked it up to how Steve had always been with him, it wasn’t a new thing, else he’d make himself go crazy with what if’s. Steve had always reached out to touch - hadn’t he?

Bucky’s brain was playing tricks, seeing things that didn’t exist, reading into Steve’s actions more than he should. Steve wasn’t lusting after him quietly, pining away like Bucky had been for months, Steve was just a considerate person. And if Steve wanted more from Bucky, there were no doubts in his mind that Steve would ask, he was a confident person, in bed and out, and never afraid to be upfront with Bucky, so why would this situation be any different?

But Bucky really enjoyed those touches, craved them, no matter what they meant.

It was a quiet Tuesday evening and Bucky had suffered through a rough day at work and really needed some time out for himself, and since he’d been too nervous to use his plug over the last week, he decided that maybe he should relearn what it meant to self-soothe -  _ without _ the aid of an orgasm. So Bucky propped himself up on his bed with a swathe of pillows and grabbed a new book, (giving the Silmarillion away due to inappropriate flashbacks) when Steve came to stand at the open door. Bucky hadn’t even realised he was home, but Steve sure looked good leaning against his jamb, hair wet from a shower and t-shirt still damp around the neck.

Bucky licked his lips.

“Whatcha doing?” Steve asked with a wide open smile.

Bucky tried to tamper his reaction to the delicious man right on the cusp of his bedroom, trying not to picture him walking in like he owned the room and telling Bucky to get naked and on all fours. Instead he lowered his book down and raised a brow slowly, “just reading…”

“Hang on,” Steve looked back down the hall, then back at Bucky, “TV’s a bit loud.” 

He then pointed his arm towards the TV in the living room at the other end of the house, and Bucky heard the volume decrease. Steve looked at Bucky with a smirk while he did it.

“Show off,” Bucky remarked with a grin, and Steve continued to watch him while he lay on his bed, a small frown forming as the volume continued to go down to almost nothing. Steve seemed to deflate when the sound finally went mute and Bucky wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. It was similar to when they’d watched TV the last few nights, the odd stilted moment when Steve turned on the TV, messing with the volume, only to look Bucky’s way expectantly, as if waiting for his opinion on what he was doing. When Bucky looked at him blankly with a small shrug to say ‘whatever you wanna watch bud,’ Steve acted as if something was missing, like Bucky wasn’t quite giving him what he was looking for, and it drove Bucky nuts. Because  _ all _ he wanted to do was please Steve, do anything for him, make him feel good. Do the right thing.

“Soon you’ll figure out how to do that  _ without _ using your hands.” Bucky tacked on when Steve didn’t move or say anything more, it was starting to feel awkward, what did Steve want? Not that Bucky was complaining about the view, but generally Steve always had a purpose.

Steve seemed to wake up from his thoughts, eyes capturing Bucky’s and he winked, he fucking winked, “I’ll  _ always _ use my hands Buck, I’m a hands-on kinda guy.”

And Bucky was finding that he might have to buy reading material with bigger covers as he placed the book over his groin, knowing that from Steve’s words alone he was getting hard, and it was ludicrous. He was going to have to do something about his crush - and soon. Moving would be easiest, a lobotomy next on the list, then there was always telling Steve…

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve replied, an eager look in his eye, one that was earnest and true, and Bucky’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his resolve disintegrating in the face of crystal blue eyes lined with gorgeous laugh lines, a wide smile that Bucky wanted to kiss senseless - and he had nothing. He was absolutely blank.

“Would you ever want to… err, I mean do you want a hot drink, I was thinking about making a spiked hot chocolate?”

Steve held his gaze for a beat before his eyes traced over Bucky’s face, and Bucky held his breath as Steve let out a long low sigh, “Sure thing. Then do you want to come play Mario Kart? I borrowed Sam’s Switch for the weekend.”

Still mulling over Steve’s soft reaction, Bucky found himself perking right up, the idea of beating Steve at a game empowering him, plus they’d be sitting together closely on the sofa. Bucky was also plug free so no chance he’d embarrass the hell out of himself; though he’d never say he wouldn’t wear it again, because - what a fucking rush, he’d never felt so alive, so depraved and so fucking ecstatic than that night. But the risk was too great.

“I’m going to cream you, Rogers.”

Steve gave him a wolfish grin that turned Bucky’s stomach inside out, and spun to walk back down the hall, and Bucky swore he heard a deep whisper, ‘Or your pants’ but no… no way. Bucky's brain was clearly fried.

But he was still a little wary as he adjusted himself and made it to the living room, finding a chipper and teasing Steve waiting for him, not one that was about to out him, it must have been in his imagination, Bucky was still a little keyed up over it. And as he made them a hot chocolate (an extra splash of rum for his), Bucky kept trying to build his courage up to say something to Steve, anything that would let him know how much Bucky wanted… more.

The words never came.

But he did wipe the floor with Steve - because no one beat Bucky at Mario Kart.

He’d take his wins where he could.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are at the chapter that somehow got to over 18,000 words alone, so it had to be split in two... so this is fair warning - proceed at your own risk - as I can't change my posting schedule and give you the next bit early (else I'll run out of words for you!) 
> 
> And thank you once again for all the amazing support, it really has blown me away - I never thought this fic would gain momentum, or such a large readership but you've all proven me wonderfully wrong so thanks again for taking the chance - I am absolutely chuffed! 
> 
> So enjoy the next installment of Bucky being too horny for his own good!

It was a handful of nights later when Bucky arrived home from the gym, exhausted, sore, and feeling ten feet tall. He loved a tough session on the weights, even if his muscles felt like jelly and he craved a massage or a hot tub to help ease the aches afterwards. His imagination immediately conjured up Steve easing his twinges and pains, but caused by a completely different activity, and Bucky stopped his mind before it got out of hand (again). 

As Steve called hello from the sofa, Bucky finally felt the strung out sensation he’d been carrying for days ebb into nothingness. He still hadn’t accused Bucky of anything - he had to be safe. 

Throwing himself, sweaty and damp next to Steve, he let out a deep satisfied exhale; Steve eyed him contemplatively.

Bucky grinned cheekily back, he was in the best mood. Exercise could do that to him.

“How was the gym?” Steve asked.

“Full of dudebros like usual, and there wasn’t room in front of the mirror again.”

Steve chuckled, “Why do you even go there? It’s full of douches.”

“Have you seen the men that work out there? Come on, Steve, gotta get my kicks somewhere - my future husband could be just one pull up bar away.”

Steve fell silent, not responding straight away, instead flicking the channel over, then again, clearly not happy with anything on. He glanced quickly at Bucky, and hummed in response. “Go have a shower, you’re gross. And if you think about taking your runners off in here, I _will_ throw them out the window.” 

“You have an issue with my brand of sweat, Rogers?”

And instead of the sassy bite he expected, Steve turned towards him, licked his lips, cocked his head and inhaled so deeply, Bucky was surprised he didn’t end up in a wind tunnel of Steve’s making.

“No, I don’t actually, not at all. It’s very you, earthy, _raw_. But your feet, that's a different matter.”

Bucky was flabbergasted, Steve had to be messing with him, that much was clear, how could he sit there nonchalant as anything and tell Bucky with a straight face he liked his... sweat scent? It was hot, yet also so very confusing. And with a forced grin followed by a laugh that was too high pitched to be anything but nerves, Bucky scurried from the living room, jumping straight in for a long, hot, soapy shower.

Five seconds in, his shin screamed at him, he’d twinged a muscle using the stepper at the gym and as the hot water hit it, the pain came back in full force. Bucky hissed, wondering if he should ice it before it got too bad, or get the horrible roller out that Steve swore by. Honestly, he knew Steve liked to put people through certain _forms_ of torture, but it seemed everything Steve owned that held a claim to be good for the body, was actually there to inflict pain. His dick took notice almost immediately and Bucky ignored it, the thought of Steve telling him what to do, inflicting hurt just to kiss it better was not sexy at all - it was downright devastating.

Half hard, and not about to jerk off, taking more willpower than he realised, Bucky finished up and spent time moisturising himself with the mystery aloe vera, lingering on his shin, trying to ease the discomfort. It seemed to work in the interim so he brushed out his wet hair before sliding into loose tartan sleep pants and an old tank that was so threadbare and loose in the arms, that when he bent over it hung open, hiding nothing at all. But it was a sofa night, and as much as he wanted to make an effort and try to impress Steve with dressing nice, they’d lived together and shared a bathroom for too long for it to make a difference now.

Sighing at his reflection, and looking forlornly at the drawer where his plug sat, knowing he’d cleaned himself thoroughly with the half baked notion of putting it inside of him, he left it. It wouldn’t be a good idea, he was already warm and languid after the workout and scalding shower and if Steve turned it on, he’d be a mess in less than a minute. But by god was he going to insert it and ride it to oblivion as he jerked off later that night.

He limped back out to find Steve had queued up a movie, Aquaman, and he settled into the sofa ready to watch the wet dream that was Jason on screen, sitting right next to the wet dream of his real life. He noticed that once again all the cushions from the sofa were on the ground next to Steve, and the moment Bucky’s ass hit the soft plush seat, Steve pressed the volume button up a few times, then down, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh when Steve did it once again. A small frown appeared between Steve’s eyes, he wasn’t pleased about something. Maybe the TV wasn’t responding the way it should. 

“What is it? Don’t tell me you’ve broken the remote already?” Bucky asked with a smirk, trying to hide his dismay in case it really was broken.

Steve pressed the volume down again while staring into Bucky’s eyes and sighed, “No, not at all - this movie just deserves the perfect sound accompaniment, that’s all.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, action movies definitely needed extra oomph, and was glad he’d left the plug behind in his room. Having Steve pressing all of those buttons in such quick succession all while looking directly at him - would have been sofa-gate all over again.

With a sigh that sounded half petulant, Steve sat back heavily, and Bucky couldn’t understand why he seemed so annoyed, like he’d been denied some form of fun.

“Can I have a cushion?” Bucky asked, and Steve picked one up and threw it at Bucky - hard. “You alright, bud?”

“Yeah I’m just…” Steve paused for a second, “Buck, have you ever wanted to take things -”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky all but screamed out as the muscle in his shin cramped up so tight, that it felt like a black hole had sucked his leg into it’s snare ready to implode.

Steve flicked buttons on the TV remote a couple of times, looking concerned, and then turned it completely off, and Bucky had no capacity to wonder about the odd reaction, his leg was on fire. He grabbed and immediately tried to massage it, to press on the pain, but it didn’t feel right, he couldn’t get a good angle. 

“What? What’s happened?” Steve grabbed his arm. 

“Fuck… cra… cramp in my shin. Fucking stepper.”

“Jesus Bucky. You scared me half to death.” Steve put the remote down and faced Bucky on the sofa, “here, give me your leg.”

With tears brimming in his eyes and pain shooting up his leg into his thigh, Bucky tried to do what he was told, but clearly his reaction time was too slow as Steve went to grab at it.

“I _said_ \- give me your leg.” The tone brokered no room for argument.

Bucky’s dick perked up, his entire body taut and tense in want as he ignored the pain coursing through his shin as best he could, allowing himself to revel in the reprimand. To enjoy being on the receiving end of it. Against better judgement he smirked in what he hoped was an alluring and bratty way and left his leg on the ground.

“And what if I don’t?”

Then something happened, something Bucky never thought he’d be on the receiving end of. 

Steve growled at him.

The rumble erupted deep within Steve’s chest, clear displeasure at Bucky’s response, it was definitely not a low purr of contentment; real annoyance stood behind it. Steve did _not_ like to be questioned once an order had been given. Bucky, whose leg was still twitching and almost too painful to bear, didn’t stop, he was ready to play on the situation, to push Steve. And even though it wasn’t appropriate, the entire interaction between them would be living in Bucky’s brain rent free for a long time to come.

But before Bucky could find the words, the cheek to bite back, be uncooperative, the cramp intensified and he yelled out again, unable to stop the small whimper escaping too. Fuck it hurt, and not in a good way.

Steve reached forward and grabbed Bucky’s leg, yanking it onto his wide lap, clinically, with a purpose, probably a little rougher than he should have, and Bucky loved it. “Jesus, Buck - you’re an insolent little thing aren’t you?”

“Who… Christ, fuck… ow... who are you calling... little?” He hissed through his teeth.

Steve gave him a withering look and dug his fingers into the cramp, right where Bucky needed it most. Bucky called out in pain and relief, moaning as Steve’s thick meaty fingers pushed and prodded and made him writhe on the sofa - and there wasn’t a plug in sight.

“Fuck, that feels _so_ good.” Bucky groaned and shifted his hips to angle his shin better in Steve’s lap, closing his eyes and relishing in the attention.

“I know,” was the smug response.

Bucky snapped his eyes open, only to see Steve’s face split into the biggest shit-eating grin and before Bucky could say anything, even if his brain was ready to cooperate, which it wasn’t, the smile disappeared and Steve looked directly into Bucky’s eyes, not dropping the gaze, not allowing Bucky to look away. He was trapped in a sea of stormy blue.

“I _know_ how to make you feel good, Buck.”

“Wha…?” Bucky scrambled for a coherent thought, but it was true, of course Steve knew how to make him feel good - Steve only had to breathe in his direction and Bucky was eternally grateful for the carbon dioxide. But was Steve intimating that he knew what Bucky _liked_ , what his soul and body _craved_.

Sure the walls weren’t thick in the apartment, probably didn’t meet code, and the fact he could hear Steve clearly when he was fucking someone else, or on the odd night when Steve jerked off, meant that Bucky was under no illusions that his escapades had gone unheard. Could Steve tell what Bucky wanted, what he’d been searching for on those few occasions he’d brought home men who’d pounded him into his mattress, only to leave him unsatisfied and yearning for more?

“See, I’m doing it right now - aren’t I?” Steve asked thickly, eyes dropping to Bucky’s shin and all Bucky could see was his eyelashes, long haunting lashes he wanted Steve to tickle his most intimate parts with as a prelude to more.

Bucky’s mouth went impossibly dry as Steve’s fingers kept pressing at the cramp, kept manipulating until it finally released and Bucky heaved out a grateful breath, relaxing into a languid lump.

“Yeah, you sure do Stevie…” the words fell loosely from his mouth.

The clearing of Steve’s throat, ripped him back into the moment, “Did I _approve_ a nickname?”

“Errr…” and although the cramp was gone, another part of Bucky’s anatomy tightened up. Steve was unimaginably imposing, stern and Bucky was weak for it.

“I’m screwing with you,” Steve’s face broke into a grin, but there was still a hard feral look hiding in his eyes that Bucky was never going to forget, not in this lifetime. “But I’m getting the roller out.”

“No,” Bucky groaned like a spoilt kid.

“Yes, and no arguments this time. Don’t be a brat.”

Bucky scowled, yet a spark lit inside, a flame licking in his gut, egging him on, telling him it was time and in all seriousness said, “Oh, I’ll do _whatever_ you ask of me… _Sir_.”

The response was swift, immediate, and Bucky’s lungs were sucked of air as Steve’s entire demeanour shifted from loose to tight within an instant. One second he was laughing about finding the torture device known as the nobuled foam roller, the next, his gaze had pinned Bucky in place until he was scared to breathe, worried he would somehow dissapoint Steve if he so much as put a finger out of place. He wanted so badly for Steve to take control, hoped it screamed out of his very pores because he was weeping for it. 

Bucky had hit his limit of ‘what ifs’ and he couldn't believe it was a stupid cramp in his leg that made him find his voice, made him bold, made him want to beg Steve for more, to take him apart. Though Bucky wasn’t quite at the begging stage yet. He might want to be taken control of, crave the loss of power, but it didn’t mean he was a pushover - not where Steve was concerned anyway. Not yet.

Steve hadn’t moved a muscle, he was still, extremely still, motionless as if he didn’t want to startle Bucky, and when he finally did move, it was to rise to his feet slowly and face Bucky, to stand above him, superior and strong; showing Bucky who was in command without using words.

Bucky all but melted into the sofa.

“Sir?” Steve questioned and Bucky could only nod in response, eyes wide and hopeful, and Steve ran a hand tightly over his face, then looked down at Bucky. “ _Whatever_ I ask?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky squeezed from his throat, and he saw a tremble go through Steve’s body at his words.

“Are you sure? Do you know what you’re asking for here?” Steve questioned, voice hoarse, tinged with roughness, like he’d not spoken in months. Bucky twitched in his seat, coming alive, looking up at Steve, knowing how utterly subservient he appeared - and he acted up to it, to his strengths.

He nodded again.

Steve let out a long deep sigh, one that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.

“I need you to know that if we do this, if we continue tonight,” Steve paused, the air thick, before continuing, “There won’t be any turning back, there is no changing it. And Buck?”

“Yes?” Bucky said brokenly, eyes shining in what he knew to be desire, pure adoration, as Steve stood above him like a saviour, like a man about to implode his very world, to shatter Bucky’s view on how things were, which way was up, the shaky foundation on which he stood. Steve had to see all of that in his eyes, it was plain as day.

“You need to use your words. You can’t be silent. Not unless I tell you to be.”

Gulping, Bucky blinked slowly, allowing Steve’s words to flow over him like molasses, a salve, words he’d been craving to hear, even though if asked he wouldn’t have been able to articulate what they should have been. 

But Steve knew, already reading Bucky so well.

The sharp pinch to his arm made Bucky yelp, and he rubbed the sore area of skin, glaring up at Steve with a scowl.

“What did I just say?” Steve demanded with a kind tone, a learning tone, a tone one would use on teaching a small child how to do things. 

“Oh… right - words.” Bucky took in a deep breath, mulled over what he knew so far and nodded again, “Yes, I understand what I’m getting into, yes, I know it’ll change things between us, and I… I want that…” Bucky gestured between the two of them. “I want this.”

Steve's entire body relaxed, shoulders no longer high, held taut and close to his neck, his stern facade slipping a moment as he cupped Bucky’s cheek in his palm and stroked a thumb over the stubbled skin.

“That's good, that’s very good, but I need you to do one thing for me before we go any further.” Steve’s thumb dug into the soft flesh of his cheek a little deeper, the demand for obedience in it clear.

“Anything,” Bucky whispered, ready to do or say whatever necessary to make Steve happy, smile, make him look at Bucky like he was worthy. Anything.

“I need you to go and get your plug and put it in for me.” 

Bucky’s brain blipped, nothing except white noise escaped, he absently felt his mouth drop open and vaguely heard Steve’s small chuckle as his sturdy fingers pressed against Bucky’s bottom lip, tracing the skin, before pulling his jaw down roughly then releasing him. He was wired, heart racing that he’d been outed. Steve knew.

“I... don’t -”

“Don’t lie to me.” Steve demanded and Bucky’s mouth clamped shut.

“Okay.” He replied in a small voice, staring up at Steve as he towered above him, he was so broad, so consuming and Bucky gulped.

“Okay, what?”

Pulse thumping in his neck Bucky licked his lips, watching Steve’s eyes trace the motion, “Okay… Sir?”

“Steve will suffice for now,” and he smiled indulgently down at Bucky, “But full disclosure, you’re going to be doing everything I say for the next few hours, I’ll show you how good you can be for me, how I can make your body sing and weep at the same time, plus every and any other sensation in between that I see fit. You’re mine tonight, Bucky. Do you agree to that?”

The air was thick between them, and even though Bucky was hearing his dicks desire, his heart wanted to ask about the rest of their nights. Would Steve want that? But Bucky sure as hell was going to grab this opportunity with both hands and take it, no matter what happened afterwards.

“God yes,” he breathed, and watched as Steve’s eyes crinkled, he’d said the right thing.

“So what are you waiting for then - I believe I asked you to do something?” Steve tsked and Bucky flushed with heat from earning disapproval, but also equally relishing in it.

“Do you want to… I mean - would you like to watch me put it in?”

Steve’s eyes darkened until they were almost black, breath rasped from his chest and he ran a hand through his hair quickly.

“Yes,” Steve replied heavily, “yes I do, you have no idea how much, but I don’t think my resolve will take it right now. I think it’s best you go get ready and meet me back here, I have to go… get a few things first.”

Dazed and on shaky legs, Bucky somehow made it to his bedroom, hoping the way Steve phrased his words meant there might be a next time, and that he’d watch Bucky slide the plug into himself then.

He began to prepare himself well, having already started the process during his shower, but now there was an extra level of anticipation, the knowledge that Steve knew about his toy, that he wanted it in Bucky for a specific purpose made him quiver, made his hands shaky. And just like the first time he’d placed the plug snug inside of him, Bucky felt like he was going to orgasm immediately, with no warning, just a blurt of come and it would be all over - and he’d let Steve down. It was too much, he had to slow down, take his time, breathe through it as he started to lube himself up, pushing the plug into place, into it’s tight home.

Once it was fully seated, Bucky sat on his bed inhaling calmly, looking over at his reflection in the mirror, at the glazed eyes staring back at him, the pink dusting of his cheeks, his wet hair drying, curling softly at the ends, and he couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

But what exactly _was_ about to happen?

Not knowing exactly what Steve was expecting from him, and also what he expected from himself, Bucky found he was indecisive on how to move forward, how to present himself. In the end knowing he was taking too long, he slid his sleep pants back on but left his chest bare, then grabbed and slipped the remote for the plug into his pocket. Was Steve’s goal to play, or was he wanting to have Bucky slightly open? Or were they about to watch TV while Steve teased him with promises and dirty words and then never follow through? He wasn’t certain what he liked the idea of more. 

Whatever it was - he was more than ready for it.

  
  
  


Bucky made his way back to the living room, heart in his throat, only to find it empty, and he stood for a second uncertain before making his way towards the sofa. He could hear Steve rummaging around in his bedroom, and when Steve finally walked out, Bucky’s heart stalled in nerves as Steve’s hands were empty, but he’d changed his clothes. Bucky couldn’t stop staring at the loose drawstring grey pants, slung low on Steve’s lean hips, a large bulge apparent, and he managed to drag his gaze upwards to a very worn t-shirt, one Bucky hadn’t seen before. Steve looked comfortable, like he was ready to snuggle on the sofa for hours, and maybe that’s what they were about to do.

Steve stopped short when he saw Bucky shifting nervously from foot to foot in front of the sofa, Bucky’s hands involuntarily balled into the soft fabric of his sleep pants and Steve’s eyes didn’t leave Bucky, raking him from head to toe, hunger and desire clear in his eyes. A look Bucky had never been on the receiving end of before.

“God, you’re beautiful Bucky.”

“Uhhh... thanks,” he stammered.

“Has no one ever told you that before?” Steve asked with a frown.

Bucky nodded slowly, shy all of a sudden, “yes, but not anyone like you.”

Steve smirked at his answer, pleased, and Bucky’s cheeks heated. “And what’s so different about me then?”

And Bucky went tongue tied, unsure how to respond, what to answer with, how to explain or voice his dirtiest secrets; they’d been living in his skin a long time and he was scared to give them life.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to respond to that if you don’t want to. But, tonight when I ask a question - I expect you to be able to answer me. Understand?”

Wide-eyed, Bucky stared back and once again found it within himself to nod, to rasp ‘yes’, hoping that he didn’t appear too eager, too much of a pushover. Who was he kidding, he was moldable clay and would show no resistance under Steve.

“Look at you, so soft and compliant already. You’re going to be the best for me, aren't you? I can tell.”

Bucky felt pride well up at the idea he could be good for Steve, he _knew_ he could be, was born for it, and that was when Steve took a step forward, into Bucky’s space. Sucking in a lungful of air, Bucky waited, unsure what was about to unfold, what would happen to him both physically and mentally. Whatever it was, he knew that afterwards he wouldn’t be the same, he’d be a changed man. And if he desired a relationship with Steve before, he was fairly certain that after, he was never going to want to leave Steve’s side again.

Words fled as Steve’s eyes trailed over Bucky’s chest, lingering on his nipples as if gauging how they’d react to stimuli, and Bucky vibrated on the spot, needing Steve to reach out, pinch, cause hurt. He clenched at the thought, the forgotten plug tugging at his insides, but before he could mention the plug or hand over the remote, find out what Steve’s game was, Steve reached out.

His large hand came to a halt less than an inch away from Bucky’s skin, hovering so close that Bucky could feel the heat like a brand, burning him through to his soul, and he looked up to find Steve watching him carefully. Bucky met his eyes unafraid, even though he wanted to duck his chin, await instructions on what to do, he was still uncertain on how to play it, but certain no matter what it was - he was on board. There was basically nothing off the table for Bucky, he wanted it all, wanted to try every single experimental position and dynamic in existence - but only with Steve.

Bucky’s attention remained on Steve’s eyes as they honed in with pinprick precision on him, waiting, holding. And it was when Steve exhaled through his teeth, Bucky realised he too might be as affected, not blase about what was happening between them. That maybe, just maybe, Steve was desperate for this to happen as well. Just as desperate as Bucky.

“May I?” Steve breathed out, and Bucky melted at the question, the care in those two words. The fact that Steve asked permission as the last line of defense, giving Bucky a chance to step back.

“Always,” he responded without thought, and between that whispered word and his next breath, Steve’s fingers touched his stomach, pressing lightly, before dragging across to grasp his hip. Bucky’s chest caved in at the heat, the texture of Steve’s fingertips on his skin, unable to process how electric that first touch was, only to be almost yanked off his feet when Steve pulled him forward. Their chests crashed together and the angle they were on, gasping for air, had Bucky noticing the height difference in a way he never had before. Tilting his head up to maintain eye contact, their relative positions suddenly so apparent, Steve’s size instantly so much more significant.

Bucky fucking adored it.

Their faces were close, only an inch apart, and Bucky could smell peppermint on Steve’s breath, intoxicating and heady. He wanted to lean in, wanted to make the first move, but a larger part of him needed to see what Steve would do. Bucky had been waiting for this moment for the longest time and he didn’t want to misstep.

Steve’s hand slid up from his hip, all the way along Bucky’s spine to tangle in his still damp hair, tugging enough to set Bucky on fire; his gasp unbidden and the darkening pleased look in Steve’s eyes, the way his pupils dilated, was staggering. With a low noise, Steve pulled Bucky’s hair again with more force, snapping his head back, and Steve descended on Bucky’s mouth, his lips pressed firmly, eagerly, seeking more, demanding more, and with a strangled gulp, Bucky opened his mouth to Steve.

It was everything and more than Bucky had hoped for - it was coming home, it was akin to soaring through the clouds as Icarus, striving to touch the sun. Steve controlled himself so very carefully, moving with intent, strong and sure, until the moment Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, his tongue teasing forward. He felt a tremble go through Steve's body at his boldness, and suddenly Steve’s other arm came up and pulled Bucky impossibly closer, until Steve’s tongue forced its way past Bucky’s shy questing pushes to plunder his mouth, to lick into it deeply, to taste his very essence, to shatter him apart with just the flick of a clever and very experienced tongue. And _Christ_ , Bucky wanted it buried deep inside of him, hoping Steve was the kind of lover that enjoyed using his tongue _everywhere_.

Molten liquid filled Bucky’s veins after only minutes, Steve’s hands so attentive on him, one snarled in his hair, the other caressing up and down his back, gripping him tight, like he was never going to let go. And as they stood in front of their sofa, a sofa they had sat on for months, starting off as strangers, slowly getting to know each other until they became firm friends, Bucky realised his feelings had grown into a tangled beast, entwined with who they were and who they could be. Bucky now stood before Steve, opening himself up, vulnerable and wary, hoping he wasn’t exposing himself to a world of pain, _well_ , not the type of pain he wasn’t asking for or deserved.

He found his arms coming up to grip uselessly, fingers curling into the softness of the overwashed t-shirt Steve wore, gorgeous and silky, so very soothing under his palms, and Bucky knew the shirt was chosen on purpose, that it had an innate way of comforting the person who would be touching it, holding on - gripping tightly. And that’s all Bucky could do, hold on as Steve intensified the kiss, the whimper in his chest threatening to overflow as Bucky tried to get closer, the plug so full and demanding in his ass, and he clenched around it, waiting for the moment that Steve took control.

Finally, with a small whine escaping Bucky’s throat, Steve pulled back; resting his forehead quietly on Bucky’s, his eyes shut, inhaling deeply, raggedly, and Bucky was thrilled to his toes that he’d done that to Steve, that _he_ was the one to elicit such a reaction.

“Fuck, you have no idea...” Steve started then stopped, his blue eyes opening, Bucky gasping at what he saw buried in their depths, “How long... how much… I…”

Steve trailed off as he leant back, hand not leaving the mat of Bucky’s hair, but he didn’t tighten or tug, and Bucky didn’t try to escape, it was possessive, it was holding Bucky in place and his body thrummed, he suddenly craved the plug to be purring within him.

Bucky let one hand drop from the safety of Steve’s t-shirt to fumble in his pocket, the fabric pulled taut from his burning erection, but he ignored it for now, Steve had to have felt it, pressed up against each other as they were, woven together in the beginnings of a dance that Bucky didn’t quite yet know the steps to.

His fingers found the small remote, and he pulled it out jerkily, and Steve sensing his movements, released Bucky reluctantly, his hair tugging where Steve’s fingers untangled, and for a moment he longed for the tension, the tautness, the strong hand grasping the strands in ownership. Steve looked down at the proffered device sitting innocently in Bucky's hand. He raised a brow.

“And what is this?”

“It’s uh… you asked me to… it's the remote - for the plug.”

Steve’s smile was slow to spread, but once it was there it was fierce, full of heat, promises and sheer dominance. Bucky’s stomach flipped in desire, the pure _want_ coursing through his veins slamming into him like an out of control freight train. 

“Oh sweetheart. I don’t need that.”

“Huh?” Bucky responded befuddled, his mind screeching to a halt at the endearment.

“I have one of my own.” 

And Steve produced the TV remote from his back pocket and Bucky’s stomach dropped, nerves kicking in, knowing that the look in Steve’s eyes hadn’t changed in the slightest, but _fuck_. Bucky looked between Steve’s knowing expression and the remote and all the blood drained out of his face as his chest churned.

“But... I uh…” Bucky’s brain went offline, processing something so big he felt an ache start at the base of his neck. “You knew… oh _fuck_ \- you _knew_?”

Bucky dropped his face into his hands and rubbed at his eyes furiously, humiliated at the knowledge Steve had known, but at the same time arousal reared its head at the implications; he was largely embarrassed at himself, that he thought he’d been so sneaky and clever. Clearly not. But what did Steve think of _him_ , knowingly wearing the plug to get off by Steve’s hands? Was he about to get into trouble?

“Hey look at me. Don’t hide those beautiful eyes,” Steve’s fingers lifted Bucky's chin up, and Bucky’s hands fell away. “There you are.”

“You…” Bucky croaked, “You knew - the whole time. That’s so fucking hot… but oh Jesus, fuck.”

“It’s okay, if _you’re_ okay. And no I didn’t know the whole time, I don’t even know when you bought the lucky toy that gets to live inside of you, just remember seeing the telltale bulge when you were bent up under the couch one night and I almost lost it. But you know when I borrowed your laptop the night I couldn’t find the charger for mine? And I had to log into work for a bit?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said slowly, eyes widening at what he knew was coming.

“You should not only clear your search history if lending it to someone, but you also probably shouldn't leave your last visited page up.”

“Oh crap…” Bucky’s face burned hotter than the sun.

“You have no idea what it did to me to read your innocently typed query, ‘can a Smart TV remote, control a vibrating butt plug?’ Then to wonder if it was about us, about _my_ new remote.”

“But that was weeks ago! _Christ,_ I’m a mitigated disaster. I’m so sorry, Steve.” The rambling had officially commenced.

“What are you sorry for? I’m not. Not at all. But are you okay with this?”

Steve fell silent, watching him, searching Bucky’s face and he could feel the scalding heat on his cheeks, running down his neck to flush his chest blotchy red, his erection twitching at the revelation.

“More than,” Bucky whispered back, self-conscious, knowing he was outing himself at liking a small amount of humiliation. Steve grinned wickedly at him and then turned the TV on and pressed the volume control; Bucky gasped and shut his eyes against the world as the plug erupted into life, until Steve gripped his chin with a hard jolt. 

“I want to see your lovely eyes, I won’t ask again.”

Bucky moaned, his dick filling up rapidly. He was such a whore for the entire situation, Bucky had the biggest kink. The biggest _Steve_ kink.

“When I heard you the night that Sam was here, it was the first time I’d used the TV remote after reading your question and I wasn’t sure if you were pleasuring yourself or if it was me helping you along - but I could _hear_ you Buck.” Steve’s lip quirked up, invitingly. “I could hear the small whimpers, the moans you let out, trying to stay quiet - but you wanted to scream down the apartment, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, Sam, did he -”

“No,” Steve chuckled, “He had no idea. But I was listening out for it though. I wondered if that's the reason you wouldn’t leave your room, why you stayed put. Out of sight.”

“I was a shambles,” Bucky confessed.

“I bet you were. The prettiest one in all of the world.”

Swallowing tightly, Steve’s soft words paired with the vibration coursing through his body was extraordinary, he was jittery, unbelieving at what had just unfolded, how he’d been outed, that Steve didn’t care, and not only that, but he loved it - didn’t think less of Bucky for his horny game.

“But I think I’ll take _your_ control though, it’s less noisy and at least I know exactly what I’m doing to you - unlike this one.” Steve’s fingers pried the control from Bucky’s grasp and immediately turned the plug off. Bucky sighed in relief, the stimulation almost becoming too much, too quickly.

“Thank you,” Bucky sighed.

Steve leant in to kiss his lips softly, sweetly, before husking against his mouth, “I’ve never seen anything hotter in my entire life than watching you come on the sofa in front of me untouched - because of me - _anything_.”

“Shit…”

Steve moved back, “Eyes on me Buck, else I might have to take measures to ensure you listen in the future.”

Bucky was desperate to know what that meant and whispered ‘please’ brokenly.

Steve swore under his breath, “You’re too… you were stunning that night, trying so hard to act like you weren’t being torn apart from the inside, I wasn’t sure until about half way through that I was in control and when I realised, I couldn’t stop. You were gone, glazed, and to come so silently, so beautifully quiet, I was mesmerised. You were gorgeous, absolute perfection.”

Bucky was trying his hardest to maintain eye contact - a near impossible task - but he did it, for Steve. “To be fair you were touching me at the time - that’s what pushed me over the edge.”

Another swear word leapt from Steve’s throat and he yanked Bucky back in, consuming his mouth, lips blazing hot against Bucky’s, it was hard, brutal and left no question as to who was in charge.

“Alright baby, I need you to lose the pants now.”

Bucky blinked back dumbly, hearing the words, but not understanding them.

“What have I said about listening?” Steve sighed and smiled leniently. “Slide your pants off and get up on the coffee table - hands and knees. Facing away from me.”

“Shit…” Bucky breathed as his dick twitched so hard, he felt his feet move in reaction.

Steve’s hand pressed against the small of his back, pushing him towards the coffee table - which thankfully was a low solid one. Bucky knew it would hold his weight - he’d used it as a step stool more times than he could count. But never for this purpose.

He took the two steps towards the piece of furniture then hesitated, looking back at Steve whose eyes were hooded, legs spread in an easy pose, arms crossed against his chest. It was a powerful stance and one that Bucky went weak at experiencing first hand, he was in too deep, and he was about to go as deep as he could - was it a mistake? 

No. 

Never.

“Go on,” Steve encouraged with a note of pure steel in his voice, making Bucky realise that, although he always had a choice, Steve was playing at not giving him that choice, pretending to take it from Bucky. He was all for it.

Clearing his mind of embarrassment, Bucky let his pants fall to the floor, kicking them to one side, chancing another quick glance at Steve, only to see Steve’s hands in fists, gripping his biceps with white knuckles, and a rush of pleasure filled him knowing it was to stop Steve from reaching out, from touching Bucky. And although Steve appeared to have all the power - Bucky suddenly knew he had even more.

So armed with that knowledge, Bucky slowly climbed onto the coffee table, placing his knees wide, not close enough to the edge to court disaster, but enough to stretch his thighs apart, and give Steve the view he’d hopefully been asking for.

The growl from behind him, the strained, ‘fucking stunning’ was enough to soothe the last of Bucky’s residual nerves, and he placed his hands far apart and presented himself, lowering his head to the wood, ass up and waited.

Bucky’s breaths came in sharp jabs, he was keyed up, so tight that his stomach was in knots, the shyness paired with excitement and sheer anticipation of the entire moment rode him, his dick heavy and full between his legs, the angle meaning it hung hard and low, not up against his stomach. Steve must have been looking his fill, seeing the tail of the plug hanging from his hole, the way his rim stretched, the way Bucky knew it would bulge the surrounding skin slightly from the times he’d watched himself in the mirror.

“Do you know how absolutely mouthwatering you look like this? Any idea at all?”

“A little.” Bucky couldn’t help respond.

“Oh really?” Steve asked, a note of something harsh in his voice, the reasoning for, Bucky couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Has someone else told you that? Has someone else seen you presented like this?”

The revelation that it appeared to be jealousy tinging Steve’s words made something indescribable fill Bucky, the idea that having someone else look at Bucky in that manner, in such an intimate setting, to make Steve react in such a way, was captivating. But before Bucky allowed Steve to stew on it any longer, Bucky shook his head.

“No, no one. I’ve never… I have, err, I have a mirror in my room.” Bucky flushed at admitting to Steve he watched himself.

The exhale through Steve’s teeth was gratifying, “Good. That’s good.” Steve went quiet for a moment and Bucky heard him shuffle closer, yet he still didn’t reach out and place a hand on him. “We’re revisiting the mirror, Buck. I want to see you playing with yourself, your reflection showing me all of your pleasure - then you watching _me_ give you that pleasure until you can't see yourself through your tears.”

 _Fuck._ Bucky was ready to come, his dick spasmed, his hole quivered around the plug, and that’s when Steve touched him for the first time.

Fingers grazed ever so softly across the skin of his lower back, before trailing down over Bucky’s cheek to the crease of his ass, running up again, and then a second hand came to mimic the movements on the opposite side.

Bucky sunk into the touch, the warmth of Steve's hands, the way they reverently touched his feverish skin, the care and slowness. It was intoxicating, Bucky felt more looked after in just ten seconds of play than with any other partner he’d had.

“So pretty. Look at you full and bursting to get ready for me, but I need to warn you, you’re going to require more prep until you’re loose enough to take me.”

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed out, desperate to know what Steve’s cock looked like, how big it was, how _thick_ it was, and of course what it felt like heavy on his tongue as Steve fucked his throat raw, using him for his pleasure, or buried so deep in his ass Bucky forgot himself.

Suddenly Steve’s lips pressed ever so softly an inch above his plug filled hole and Bucky heard a broken wail leave his throat. Oh God, he wasn’t going to survive the night.

The chuckle from behind him was downright filthy, and Steve flicked his tongue lightly over the skin, almost, but not quite near enough to where Bucky needed it, and he arched up - seeking that spot. A hand immediately slapped down on his ass, holding him rigid.

“Uh uh - you’re going to let me look, to feel, to check you before you get too eager on me, okay?”

Bucky exhaled through his teeth harshly - he wasn’t going to last the hour.

“What was that?”

“Yes,” Bucky griped, “I’ll be... good?”

Steve chuckled again, squeezing hard on Bucky's cheek, roughly, pinching and it was, _oh so_ perfect. Bucky let out the smallest moan and bit it back, ashamed that he was already so close to the edge.

“Oh no you don’t. Don’t you dare hide your noises from me.” Steve tweaked hard on the sensitive skin once more and Bucky let out the smallest sound, “I’ve heard them through the walls, all breathless, begging for more, never quite getting what you need from those _other_ men you’ve brought home. But I promise you sweetheart, I’m going to give you exactly what you want, but on my terms. Can you be patient?”

Bucky wasn’t sure he could be, but by fuck he would try, he was already a pile of liquid at Steve’s very capable feet and so far Steve hadn’t done anything except kiss him lightly and squeeze his ass. At that point Bucky would have promised Steve anything, anything in the world just to get him to do something. To touch. 

“I can be patient,” he whispered hoarsely into the tabletop.

“I know you can.” The squeeze came once again, “God I wish you could see this. It’s a feast, your goddamn ass is a feast and I can’t wait to use it, to taste it.”

Bucky let out a gasp at the wording, he wanted that, wanted Steve to use him, take him, control him. Bucky could only imagine what Steve was doing, not brave enough yet to look, he knew Steve was standing behind him, staring down, presumably, one hand full of Bucky’s plump ass, the other he couldn’t feel, having no idea where it was and when it might appear. But Bucky’s skin burned where Steve laid his kiss, he could feel the wetness where his tongue had flicked out - and it was driving him insane.

“Oh baby, I could look at this plug sitting snug in your hole… _my_ hole, all day. Huh, maybe that’s what I’ll do.”

The noise that escaped Bucky was not human, not at all, he couldn’t believe it came from his throat. The sheer possessiveness of Steve calling Bucky’s hole _his_ , scrambled his senses, his brain stopped firing. He felt _owned_.

And yet he knelt there waiting, Steve still not moving after saying something like _that_ \- and Bucky couldn’t help it, he pulled together every bit of courage he could muster and looked back over his shoulder. 

He shouldn’t have. 

Why the fuck didn’t he listen to his instincts? They were there for a reason. 

Bucky’s dick hardened impossible more, too quickly, so full that his vision spun - because Steve; his housemate, the man who starred in more fantasies than he’d had hot dinners was standing behind him, eyes black and hungry, staring at Bucky’s hole where the plug sat snugly. And Bucky finally knew where Steve’s other hand had been - Steve had pushed his grey pants down under his balls, was stroking himself, slowly, intently in a loose fist. Bucky baulked. 

It couldn’t be real. 

Steve’s dick had to be a mirage, would disappear if he came any closer, there was no way a man could have _that_ in his pants and not fall over, not pass out with the amount of blood needed to keep it hard, but it appeared Steve had no such issues. It jutted out, temptingly stiff, red at the tip, long and sleek. But it wasn’t the length that made him swallow tightly - it was the girth. Steve was... a lot.

“See something you like?” Steve drawled, and Bucky hadn’t realised Steve’s eyes had fallen to his face. He couldn’t answer, all he managed was to lick his lips and nod enthusiastically. Steve dropped his hand, dick springing free, the sheer weight making it point downwards and Bucky snapped his head back towards the TV, now uncertain if he would survive the next ten minutes.

Suddenly Bucky’s ass cheeks were pulled apart, a pleased hum greeted his ears and Bucky fell forward, hiding his face in his forearms, the stretch as Steve held him open was delicious, never the same as when he held himself.

“You are _so_ good, look how much lube you used, so careful with yourself.” Steve’s smooth voice slid down his spine making him shiver, “I’m pleased. Nothing is allowed to ruin this hole, this beautiful pink rim.” Steve’s finger pressed against where the plug was seated and he stifled his reaction, “Nothing and nobody but me.”

Bucky groaned low and guttural, he couldn’t believe the words falling from Steve’s filthy lips, it sounded as if he wanted more, that Bucky belonged to him - it wasn’t true, but Bucky would take it, live in the fantasy for a while.

“You hear me Buck?”

“I… I do… just you… _Steve_.”

“I’ve got you, don’t you worry that sweet little head of yours. I’m just inspecting my new home, making sure you can take me, wondering if it’ll make those beautiful eyes tear up when I slide in for the first time, how much prep you’ll need, or do you like a little stretch and burn?”

“Oh my god…” Bucky managed, his dick leaking onto the table, his vision whiting out as he felt it pulse heavy between his legs - he really wasn’t going to last if Steve kept up that kind of talk.

“Huh, I had a feeling that you’d like that.” Steve’s grip intensified, “Do you want me to look after you tonight?”

Bucky nodded his head emphatically that, yes he did, unable to use his words, because he was worried he’d let out his feelings too - that he wanted nobody but Steve to look after him for the rest of his days. He was lucky to have one night, to have Steve’s attention completely on him. So he remained quiet and waited as Steve’s fingers prodded carefully around his rim, finger coated in lube, pressing and testing around the plug.

Suddenly the finger was gone, disappointment filled Bucky’s gut, right up until the small hum of the plug commenced and he jolted, crying out at the unexpected stimulation.

“Bucky, you should see... holy shit - you’re eating this up. I’ve never seen anything as hungry as your beautiful hole before. God, I can’t wait to squeeze in there.” Steve’s finger returned and pressed next to the plug, Bucky saw stars. “Should I try and fuck you while you’re wearing this, sweetheart?”

Bucky’s arms gave out even though he was resting on his elbows, and Steve steadied him by grabbing his hips. 

Chuckling, Steve leant forward and pressed his lips to the middle of Bucky’s back, “Not tonight, then, but it’s definitely an idea...”

Bucky’s arms were shaky as he got his weight back underneath him, brain stalling on the words, ‘not tonight’ - making his heart soar at the implication that there could be a ‘later’ and his stomach twisted in knots.

Maybe Steve _did_ want more, he’d not even had Bucky once, but was he indicating he already wanted him again? Or was it all in Bucky’s lust clouded and hopeful mind? And if Steve did call on him for another round - could Bucky live up to the expectation, was he going to be good enough? Would _he_ be enough for Steve?

The intensity increased on the plug as Steve played and hummed deeply, clearly watching Bucky as he took the device, at his hole quivering around it, he could tell because not only was his rim shaking, but his whole body was too - he was taut, ready to snap and they’d only just begun.

Steve’s fingers pulled him apart again roughly and he felt the plug shift, sliding backward, popping out a little, not by much, but enough to make a squishing sound. Bucky bit his lip to stop his moan, then remembered Steve’s order, and let it out, long and throaty. Steve’s fingers faltered.

“You like that?” Steve did it again, and at Bucky’s secondary noise, said, “Good to know.”

A hand left his body and the plugs vibration started to change, until a low thud commenced. Bucky squirmed on the table, hearing through the squeal of his brain, Steve’s pleased sound. The hand returned as the plug started to make Bucky writhe and groan, and he almost flew up off the table as Steve gripped the tail and began to play.

Steve pushed it in until it ground against his walls, twisting the toy as much as he could, pressing forward to hit Bucky’s prostate until Bucky flung his head back, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as the pleasure increased so much that he thought he could potentially black out from an orgasm. And if anyone could make him - it would be Steve. He knew it.

The slow drag of the plug out of him, the way it stretched Bucky’s rim made him whimper, the table now wet with sweat and tears as Steve changed his pace, the pull stopping short of leaving his body by a mere inch. Bucky took in a long shuddering breath, hole wide around the plug, and then Steve unceremoniously shoved it back in with no recourse and Bucky quaked. His stomach jittered and shook as his legs trembled due to the vibrations within him ramping up to one of the highest settings.

“I think you’re going to be perfect for me, more perfect than I imagined.”

Bucky whimpered, and in that moment - ass up on their shared coffee table as Steve fucked him with his toy - he felt like _Steve’s_ toy. But the words somehow stuck with him in his haze.

“You… you… oh, _shit_... that - right there. You imagined?”

“Oh Buck, you have no idea how many nights I thought about your ass in my hands, under my lips, burying my dick so deep that you scream out my name until you can’t speak.” Steve punctuated those words by leaning forward and kissing a soft trail across his lower back and it was sweet, so sweet for what his hands were doing to his ass, the shouts he was eliciting with a few deft twists and movements. “And I’ve finally got you where I want you and I’m not letting go until you’re limp and exhausted in my arms.”

It was those words that pushed Bucky to the brink, combined with Steve’s movements.

“I’m going to… oh shit, I’m going to -”

Bucky tried to hold it, tried desperately not to come, but he couldn’t help it, it was too late, his body convulsed as Steve fucked the still vibrating plug into his ass. He absently heard the slop of his come as it hit the coffee table, splattered on the surface as shame and embarrassment flooded his body, and the tears that fell from his eyes were not all from relief. Steve was going to be so disappointed in him. He’d fucked everything up by not being able to control his body.

He rested his head on his forearms, breathing deeply, the plug now off, and that was it, it was done. Over. Frustrated he gritted his teeth and went to move.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Steve’s voice came from right in front of him and shocked, Bucky looked up from the table, straight into familiar blue eyes, eyes that softened in understanding. He’d not even heard Steve move. Steve reached out, thumbing the tears away and Bucky inhaled shakily. 

“Nowhere?”

“That’s exactly right, you don’t get to move until I say so, and I am not even _close_ to being finished with you. No matter how prettily you come without permission.” Face flaming red, Bucky blinked once, and Steve cupped one side of his face, tapping him softly twice, “You ready?”

And as Bucky regrouped when Steve stood up, feeling his cooling come drying on his thigh, he had to wonder - _was_ he ready?

There was nothing for it but to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ducks behind couch* a cliffhanger - oh I know I'm terrible - but it'll be worth it!!  
> Promise ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just - wow - the reception and love you've given me for that last chapter (and the story in general) has literally blown me away - so thank you - I won't delay you here as I know you want to jump straight in...
> 
> So - enjoy the further adventures of horny Bucky, now with the added enjoyment of Steve... ;)

Steve gave Bucky a bottle of chilled water, making sure he sipped at it until it was all gone. So far, he’d not been allowed to move from his position on the coffee table, and he was equal parts excited and flustered at his predicament.

At least the plug was switched off - but it was still sitting snug in his body and he knew the reprieve was short term.

“Your shin, the cramp - is it okay?” Steve asked, as he returned from the bathroom with a damp cloth.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Bucky gasped as the warm material wiped down the inside of his leg.

“Good.” Steve paused, the cloth returning to his skin a second later to repeat the movements. “Buck, you made such a mess of yourself.”

Red infused Bucky’s cheeks and he ducked his head into the crook of his elbow, Steve was hitting too many buttons, and the small fire in his gut reignited.

“Sorry,” Bucky whispered back.

Steve hummed in pleasure at his quiet response, the cloth soon discarded, and Steve’s hands began sweeping soft and soothing patterns up Bucky’s back, down over the cheeks of his bent ass, to his thighs. Relentless movements of skin on skin and Bucky found himself relaxing into it, losing his fear that Steve was upset at him for coming too early, that it was over, and his breathing finally returned to normal.

He wasn’t sure how long Steve pressed his palms to Bucky’s heated skin, the moments all blurring in with each other, but Bucky was thankful Steve’s touch never left his body and he said as much.

“What do you mean?” Steve queried as his palm smoothed across Bucky’s hip and back down over his thigh.

“People generally don’t do this, calm me down, reassure me. This is nice.” The slight slur in his words made him smile, he sounded so blissed out.

Hands tightened minutely on his skin, juddering in their movements and Bucky wasn’t sure if it had actually happened or if it was in his spaced out and happy mind creating the sensation.

Steve’s voice was rough but certain when he replied, “You should never be left alone like that, that's not how I work Buck. I need you to know that.”

Bucky hummed into the coffee table, head down, eyes opening to stare at the wood grain, seeing the spittle that escaped earlier pooling under him, part ashamed, part turned on that Steve made him dribble with only the small amount of play they’d shared so far.

“You’re under my care, and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel safe and secure here. I’m not like those other… I’ve got you.”

Bucky felt a bubble welling in his chest, and he wasn’t certain if it was going to end in a croak or tears, so he swallowed it down, relishing the care Steve was gifting to him in the moment.

“Thank you,” He managed.

“Don’t thank me yet. I promised you tears, and I expect to get them.” Steve’s hands continued their journey until they finally paused, “You ready to continue yet sweetheart?”

Bucky wasn’t sure. His heart was full, his body thrummed and was completely sated and once more on the cusp of arousal after Steve’s soft ministrations, but was he ready for the full Steve Rogers treatment?

“More than.”

Steve’s palms made one last sweeping pass of his body, and Bucky jerked when Steve’s fingers grasped the tail of the plug and started to very slowly pull it out - but only half way. Bucky found himself gripping the edge of the table, not sure if the toy was about to start vibrating again or what Steve’s plan was. And Bucky wasn’t expecting the prod of fingers to test his stretched rim, nor for one thick lubed up digit to push in -  _ beside _ the plug. And Bucky’s white knuckle grip tightened until he thought his fingers would snap the wooden table to pieces.

“Oh god,” he wailed, “Shit… that’s…” His brain splintered as arousal slammed into him again, his dick filling slowly but surely.

Pleasure rippled down his spine, and he tried so hard not to arch up to both get away from,  _ and _ grind back on Steve’s hand. Thank god Steve hadn’t turned the plug on.

On the heel of those thoughts, the gentle vibrating nudge from inside started at that exact moment and Bucky was fucked - so utterly fucked. The tears Steve promised sprung up immediately, it was all so intense, the sensations coursing through him; the slight overstimulation, the knowledge that a part of Steve was sharing space in his body alongside the plug. 

It was exquisite and Bucky never wanted to live without it again.

Only Steve could look after him now, give him what he needed - Bucky was certain of it.

“You’re gorgeous Buck, so pretty wrapped around my finger, taking me and the plug so well. I need to prepare you more though, I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve fell silent as a second finger dragged around his rim, before testing the tightness, but not pushing in yet, “Never want to hurt you.”

And those whispered words hit Bucky square in the chest, no one had ever taken the care, showed the reverence that Steve had, but he also possessed that firm hand Bucky needed, craved. It was as if Steve had read Bucky’s sexual handbook,  _ no _ , that wasn’t quite true, it was as if Steve had read Bucky’s  _ life _ handbook and knew exactly what Bucky was seeking. In bed  _ and _ out.

It should have sobered him, scared him, made him think twice about what they were doing, how invested he was in this one night, not knowing if there was anything more on the horizon. He hoped so, he wanted there to be, but he was an unreliable source on knowing what someone’s intentions were, his parade of exes an indication of that. But Bucky trusted Steve, had to trust he’d do the right thing. 

Then at that exact moment, Steve pushed a second finger in, Bucky thankful the plug had not increased in vibrations, almost as if Steve sensed Bucky’s poor body couldn’t take the extra stimulation yet.

Bucky had always admired Steve’s hands, they were capable, firm, long and thick, and he’d always wondered what they would feel like inside of him, preparing him, and now Bucky knew. Though he never thought he’d have two of Steve’s fingers pushing in, searching, testing his tightness right next to his plug. And all he could imagine was Steve’s huge dick pressing in beside the plug, just like Steve promised. Bucky begged himself not to pass out - he didn’t want to miss a moment, a second, of what was happening.

And just as Bucky began to push himself back, seeking more, the fingers of Steve’s free hand trailed down the length of Bucky’s dick hanging heavy between his legs, hardening up as the seconds passed, and he almost expired on the spot. He was too excited and sensitive, sucking in sharp breaths, trying to be good, to be still, to be everything Steve was expecting, but then Steve’s huge hand wrapped around him, giving three sharp tugs. 

“Oh fuck…” Bucky ground out in a hiss.

Steve’s touch wasn’t rough or sadistic but it was laden with intent, with purpose, and Bucky inhaled deeply, desperate to calm his racing heart, Steve was touching him, had his hand wrapped around his dick, not squeezing or moving or stroking, just holding. It was becoming tough to think straight,  _ Jesus _ the image they must make, Steve behind him, two fingers deep and a hand wrapped around his dick, would make Bucky come in mere seconds - he was glad he didn’t have a visual.

All too soon, Steve’s hand left his sensitive flesh and his cock gave a throb, one solitary hard throb and he bit his lip.  _ Christ _ , how could Steve do that to him?

“So, tonight I’m going to give you a choice, just know that usually I don’t give them.”

Bucky was rattled from his thoughts.

“What?” he croaked. The idea of not having a choice making him giddy, lightheaded, but what choice  _ did _ he have?

“Did you want me to make you come again now, and again later tonight  _ if _ you’re lucky - or do you want to hold out, see how good you can be? How long you can last for me?”

Bucky’s brain fractured at the choice, it should be an easy one and if he were alone or with anyone other than Steve he would choose to come immediately, it felt like a trick question though, not that Steve would play games when his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. And Bucky wanted so desperately to please Steve, do what he wanted, make him proud, so he took in a deep ragged breath.

“I want to wait.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you said that,” Steve’s fingers pumped in and out of his hole a few times, the stretch and burn filthy good, “You’re almost ready for me, but first I want to know what your mouth feels like." Steve paused a mere second, "Sucking me.”

“God, yes…” Bucky ground out, squeezing his eyes tight as the plug switched to the lowest setting, one that wouldn’t make him orgasm without extra stimulation, and Steve’s fingers slipped from him.

Bucky immediately felt empty which was ludicrous because he still had the plug stuffed inside, but he felt looser, needing something thicker filling him now, and he  _ knew _ that Steve knew that, that he was banking on Bucky feeling that way, and he had to commend Steve for his actions.

Steve knew the whole time he made Bucky wait for it, the more keyed up and excited he’d get.

“Turn around baby. Can you sit up on the side of the table for me?”

Bucky started to shift gingerly, knees locking up from being in the same position for a long time, the hard table biting into him, the pain in his peripheral - he liked it, liked knowing what caused it. But Steve had him, grasping his shoulder to steady him before rubbing out his sore spots, massaging his knees down his legs as Bucky made it to a sitting position. As Steve stood, Bucky spread his legs open, looking up only to find Steve already staring down at him, something resembling awe passing behind his eyes.

“Bucky, are these tears all for me?  _ Jesus _ , you’re too much.”

Steve cupped his cheek tenderly and bent forward, surprising Bucky when he kissed the tears away.

The softness only lasted momentarily as Steve stood back up and pulled the grey pants over his hips until they sat mid-thigh. Steve’s leg muscles were thick and dense, the fabric unable to slip any further without assistance, but it gave Bucky an unhindered view of the dick that was soon going to be buried in his heat and he quaked, lightheaded and faint like a damsel. It had looked big, mammoth, in Steve’s hand when Bucky had glanced over his shoulder earlier, but now that he was close up, it was a lot more than he expected. 

Bucky clenched immediately,  _ oh yes _ , he was going to fit it all and he was going to cry happy tears, now understanding some of the moans that filtered through the walls at night when Steve told his partners they could take more - because there was a lot of dick to take, and Bucky was there for it. Willing and able.

Licking his lips, Bucky looked up through his lashes at Steve, who watched Bucky’s face closely, and he saw Steve shake his head as if waking up from a trance.

“You’re honestly beautiful like this, knees red, tears in your eyes, looking up at me like I’m the one giving you a gift, not the other way round.”

Steve pushed his pants all the way down until they hit the floor, kicking them aside, landing on Bucky’s discarded ones, and he liked that, he liked the idea of their clothes tangled on the floor, would like that on a more permanent basis. 

Tentatively, Bucky reached out a hand, Steve stood motionless, eyebrow raised, hands resting on his hips, cocky and sure of himself and Bucky hesitated for a moment. Knowing exactly what he needed to do.

“Can I?” he asked permission in a reverent voice, needing to touch.

The low exhale from Steve was flattering, “You couldn’t be more right for me could you? You can touch.”

Bucky didn’t wait for an engraved invitation, reaching his fingers out immediately, trailing them over the tip and up the long length of Steve, mouth dry - and Bucky wanted to taste so much, and that thought rattled him. Because he could, Bucky had permission, was about to taste this huge appendage, wet it up, wrap his mouth and lips around it and get Steve ready to take him. Fill him.

“Oh fuck.”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“Nothing… I just…” Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve’s dick and although Steve let out a low hiss, his hands stayed put on his hips. Bucky wanted them tangled in his hair, thought on how to get them there, but what captured Bucky’s attention more, was how little his own hands looked, how massive Steve’s dick was in his palm. He reached his other hand up and started to stroke lightly over the top of Steve’s dick with one hand as the other teased down the thick vein pulsing underneath - pushing on it, following it’s thick trail until he reached the soft thatch of blonde hair at the base. 

Fuck Steve's dick was gorgeous, uncut, and although Bucky hadn’t had much experience with them specifically, he loved the extra skin, loved to play with it, could spend a full day on his knees lavishing love on it, keeping it safe and warm in his mouth or his hole. And when he blurted this out loud to Steve, that’s when one of Steve’s hands finally left his hip, tipping Bucky’s head up so he could stare directly into his eyes.

“You want that? Is that something you’d like to do?”

Bucky nodded, “Yes. Yes please, I mean...”

“Fuck you’re too… okay Buck. But right now. Now I want your mouth on me, that delectable sassy mouth that haunts me. I need to know what the inside of it feels like.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, had been desperate for it in fact and leant forward, suckling the tip into his mouth, tasting Steve’s unique tang for the first time. Bucky growled hungrily, pushing his tongue forward into the slit, needing more, wanting to coat the inside of his mouth, fill it until he was about to burst, not swallowing until he was told he could. 

It was an addictive taste.

Sliding lower, Bucky tested how much of Steve he could take at once, almost hyperventilating not even halfway down when he found his mouth needed to stretch wider, and Bucky wasn’t certain he could do it, not without a lot of practise anyway. But he tried, and the very controlled punched out moans from above him, made Bucky realise he had to try harder, wanted to get Steve messy for him, come everywhere - would Steve let him? Would Steve like that?

Grabbing Steve’s dick in two hands, Bucky used one to hold tight at the base and the other to stroke up and down, tight then loose as he suckled the tip.

“No hands.” The command broke through Bucky’s daydream of making Steve lose control.

“Huh?” Bucky said around a mouth full of dick.

“Hands behind your back. I won’t ask again.”

His brain was slow on the uptake, but the order eventually filtered through the molasses that was Bucky’s consciousness and he let go of Steve’s dick, the sheer weight on his tongue making his head bob down, and placed both hands behind his back, clasping his forearms to stop himself reaching out again. It was a difficult position, and the angle made Bucky duck his head because Steve’s dick was so heavy and fat it wouldn’t stay sprung up, but the wash of precome that hit his tongue made him realise Steve liked what he saw, what he was looking down at.

Meanwhile Bucky licked, suckled and tasted to his heart's content - living out a million fantasies in his mind on all the things that Steve could possibly do to him afterwards.

And just as Bucky found a good rhythm, the toy’s vibration ramped up inside of him.

Steve had the control in his palm and Bucky squirmed on his ass, the table hard and unforgiving underneath him. His entire lower half shook, electric pulses of desire ran up his spine, the plug still firmly in position but slightly loosened from Steve’s fingering, and as he shifted in place, the plug pressed against his prostate and he cried out around Steve’s dick, humming without meaning too. Steve instantly grasped the back of Bucky’s head, handfuls of hair in his grip, tugging roughly at the strands, Bucky seeing stars as his vision went white and arousal coiled through his stomach. 

The stimulation was everywhere - in his ass, on his tongue, against his scalp, the scent of Steve so close and intimate, and Bucky finally noticed through his lust haze that Steve’s hips had started to move. Gently at first, until he gained momentum and thrust in earnest, but never too deep, clearly knowing and sensing Bucky’s current limit, and that, if anything, made his heart soar. Steve cared, actually took notice of what Bucky was capable of without a whisper or a word of complaint, it made Bucky feel safe, that Steve would absolutely push his boundaries in so many ways, but that night - their first time together, Steve was conscious, caring and taking mental notes. 

Bucky couldn’t take it, was overwhelmed by everything happening and started to gasp uncontrollably around Steve’s dick.

The toy instantly turned up to its highest vibration setting, and Bucky bounced on the table, hips moving in a grind and it felt so fucking good, immensely, until a sharp pull of his hair stopped him. The tug hard enough that Bucky’s head snapped backwards until he was looking up at Steve towering over him, the tip of his dick still sheathed between Bucky’s lips. 

“No Buck, you’re not to come, remember?”

Then Steve continued to slip his huge cock further in between Bucky’s lips, feeding him and Steve’s eyes devoured where he pumped into Bucky’s mouth over and over and Bucky found it hard to focus. His ass convulsed around the plug, his throat raw and delicate already, and the sight of Steve’s pleased expression, looking down at Bucky like he mattered, like Bucky was the only person on the planet that could offer him this, was too much, his eyes filled with tears again. 

He went to squeeze his thighs together to stave off his impending orgasm, but Steve was there, standing between his legs and then he moved  _ closer _ , making Bucky’s back arch, his ass flatten on the table so the plug was against the wood. And for the first time Bucky could hear it, and it was just a slight thumping sound as it pulsed, but it was so hot,  _ too _ hot and Bucky went to shut his watering eyes.

“Don’t.”

The word was sharp and full of demand, Bucky swept his lashes open again, and through blurred vision he watched as Steve continued to fuck into his mouth, stretching it until he thought he'd burst. And as he stared unblinking, he felt Steve’s thumb make its way to touch the side of Bucky’s stretched mouth, and there was no way he could push it inside as well, Bucky would rupture at the corner of his lips - but Steve didn’t. He stroked lightly against the sore skin before moving his hand to the back of Bucky's head so both hands were tangled in his hair and Steve then pumped quick, shallow and fast.

“Your mouth is stunning, so hot and wet and I want to come until you splutter, order you not to swallow, make you hold it in your mouth. You could do that for me, couldn’t you, sweetheart?”

Bucky nodded eagerly, which made the stretch as Steve pushed past his lips burn even more and he hummed.

“Oh God baby - I’m going to fuck you so hard now." Steve punctuated his words with another flurry of thrusts, "Do you deserve it - do you deserve my dick in your greedy hole?”

Bucky keened, the wail welled up in his throat unbidden. He wanted it, needed it, had been waiting for it for such a long time, he deserved it right? He had to, he’d been  _ so _ patient.

And before Bucky could overthink too much, Steve pulled out of his mouth, saliva and fluids slopping out from between his lips, coating his chin, dribbling onto his chest. But Bucky didn’t wipe it up, he’d not been told he was allowed to.

“Fucking hell,” Steve exploded as he watched Bucky's slack face, yanking him upright, making him lightheaded but it didn’t matter as Steve’s arms wrapped around him, lips finding Bucky’s trashed and swollen ones, punishing him, pushing in, almost painfully but in the best way. His tongue pressed deeply into Bucky, taking the same path as his cock had moments before, and Bucky went limp. But Steve had him. Kept him upright.

The kiss started brutal, then something shifted, Steve’s tongue became softer, languid, more teasing than taking control, and Bucky sighed, melting into it until they stood in the living room naked, pressed tightly against each other, lips moving over the other but not for anything other than comfort. And just as Bucky was getting used to the soft and gentle caress, he was suddenly hefted into a lift and couldn’t stop the yelp as his mouth was torn from Steve’s.

“Your room?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Bucky breathed out, leaning forward, chancing another soft press of lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. Steve’s steps faltered and he looked down at Bucky fondly.

“How are you even real?”

Bucky didn’t know how to answer because he was fairly certain he wasn’t real, he was smoke and cells, no actual corporeal body left, he was about to float away without Steve's steady hands holding him down.

Luckily for Bucky - Steve didn't let go.

  
  


Bucky blanked out at Steve’s unparalleled strength, the way he easily held Bucky against him, no sign of strain. Bucky wasn’t small, he was thick and bulky. He'd never felt so tiny in his life as he did in that moment though. He relished in it, loved it, cherished the moment for what it was.

Steve lay Bucky gently down on the bed, belying the fierce, demanding look in his eye, but it was the hint of softness at the edges that undid Bucky.

“Give me a second,” Steve whispered leaving a featherlight kiss to Bucky’s sternum and he couldn’t help arch up into it. Steve’s eyes snapping to his face, hungry and wanting. Bucky felt invincible.

Steve left him a moment, and Bucky looked around, his room not in too much of a disarray, but to be fair, he’d not expected company. And as he lay naked, hard and blood boiling, he had an awful moment of doubt - what if Steve didn’t come back?

But he did.

Steve threw lube and condoms onto the comforter and Bucky looked at them, not having even thought that far ahead, he would have taken Steve bare with no regards to safety, he was infinitely glad he wasn’t in control.

Walking around the bed like he owned the space, belonged there, Steve reached forward and grabbed Bucky’s ankles and pushed them up until Bucky’s legs buckled against his chest, completely exposed.

“Hold.”

Bucky complied immediately, hands shaking, holding his knees up and unintentionally spreading himself further open. But Steve didn’t touch, take out the toy, lube him up and slam into him like he thought.  _ No _ , Steve did something different, he twisted Bucky’s entire body around, the sheets bunching up so that he lay  _ across _ the base of his bed, and then he walked away.

Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, mind whirling, what in the hell was Steve playing at? Hearing a sharp scraping noise, he looked over at Steve, then gulped. 

Oh, no.

Jesus H Christ, he was dead, he was not going to make it out intact.

Steve had grabbed Bucky’s mirror, placing it a yard or two away from the bottom of the bed, and Bucky could see himself in profile, spread out over the covers and knew it was going to consume him. If he could not only feel Steve pounding away inside of him, but watch it in technicolour too, he was screwed.

“You seem to like your mirror, Buck. So because you’ve been extremely good to me, I’m going to allow you to watch me fuck you for the first time.”

Bucky bit his lip to stop from declaring his undying love as Steve knelt on the bed, and watched as Steve’s huge dick bobbed up and down at the movement, and dragged his gaze over the flushed and tense body of the man crawling up and over him.

“Eyes on the mirror, Buck.” Steve commanded, and Bucky snapped his head to the side, breathing deeply through his nose, body complying to Steve’s demand without conscious thought. He watched  _ and _ experienced Steve placing a steadying hand on his tight thigh muscle, while the other pulled the plug gently from him with a squelch and pop, feeling his hole flutter, trying to grip onto something, the emptiness engulfing him, and Bucky shifted his hips.

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be full soon. I promise.”

Bucky stared intently into the mirror as Steve picked up the bottle of lube, squirting a liberal amount over his fingers, and even though Bucky could see all the movements in the reflection, he was still shocked to feel Steve’s fingers rubbing around his rim. It was like watching it happen to somebody else, he couldn’t quite grasp that the half delirious man in the mirror was him, that it was  _ he _ who was lucky enough to have Steve over him, pleasuring him, being at Steve’s every whim. Bucky expected the chill of lube to startle him, but it was warm to the touch, and of course Steve would use a warming lube, always considerate of his partners comfort, and Bucky’s heart clenched for the fiftieth time in the last hour. 

Steve was too much, and for the foreseeable future - for the night, at least - he was all Bucky’s.

“Look at this,” Steve said, staring at their reflection, holding Bucky’s gaze with a soft smirk, Bucky too caught up in the sensation of having two fingers and a third nudging into his body to focus properly. “You take me beautifully, you’re open and ready, aren’t you?”

Bucky nodded, then at Steve’s rising brow, remembered his orders, speech slurring as the third finger breached him, words slipping from him without thought. “Yes, always be open for you... always.”

Steve breathed out a shaky breath at Bucky’s whispered confession, face averting so Bucky couldn’t see his expression and he panicked. But Steve’s steady palm smoothed up his stretched thigh, calming him, and before he could apologise, try to take it back, Steve was staring down at his hand, three fingers deep. Bucky let it go, had to as Steve pressed deeper and Bucky felt no more pressure than usual, no pain as Steve started to pump slowly, twisting his wrist, prodding and poking, and the delicious burn began as Steve’s pinky finger teased around the edges. Bucky couldn’t help his natural reaction and writhed on the bed, begging with his body that he needed more.

“Steve... oh god. That’s so… I want you,  _ need _ you in me -  _ please _ .”

“Not just yet baby, almost though. I’m not going to hurt you, that won’t do either of us any good. You’ll wait until I say you’re ready.”

Bucky wanted to argue, wanted to rail against what Steve was saying, hadn’t he only moments earlier indicated that Bucky was ready, waiting, loose enough? He remained silent, knowing the look he’d get if he tried to state his case, but by god did he want to, he wanted to push Steve’s buttons, see him lose control, take Bucky in hand. Discipline him. 

But if they only had this night, this one moment, Bucky wouldn’t take it down that path, didn’t have the time, so he fell silent. But he found a pleased bubble erupting inside that the choice really wasn’t his, that Steve would make sure he was ready.

Ten minutes later Bucky was calling Steve every name under the sun in his head, tears streaming from his eyes as Steve pumped four fingers into him, pushing him towards the edge. He’d never felt so full, yet so needy, desperate for Steve’s dick, requiring every fat inch of it inside of him, and the weight of Steve’s body over him, pressing him into the bed, punishing, rough and merciless was torturous in the sweetest way. Steve’s masculine scent wrapped around Bucky, making him dizzy, and he inhaled deeply to scent him, to never forget the smell of Steve's arousal.

But Steve still hadn’t made a move to slide into Bucky, even though he could see that his dick was straining and weeping in the reflection of the mirror - ready and wanting to be snug in Bucky’s ass. He knew it, could tell just by staring at the thick appendage how good it was going to feel, how much Steve was going to like being inside of Bucky.

The whimpers torn from his throat were reckless, anguished and when he felt Steve’s deft reach press against his prostate every other stroke, he knew it was on purpose, knew Steve was stimulating him too much else Bucky try to demand more, become bratty and inconsolable. But Bucky wasn’t going to last too much longer, not knowing if this time he had permission to come when it rushed up on him, or if he had to hold on to it - his recollection of the instructions unclear. His lapse earlier and Steve’s words about coming without permission, played in the back of his mind.

So he clenched hard on Steve’s fingers, fisting his rumpled sheets until he was a weeping mess, needing and wanting everything all at once, unable to articulate what he desired but also knowing that Steve knew exactly what he required.

It was infuriatingly hot and frustrating, and Bucky wouldn’t have changed a thing, no matter how much he wanted it all right in that second, how much he wanted to come everywhere and then sleep - because the moment he shut his eyes for the night - it would be over. Steve would go back to his room and Bucky would wake up alone.

As Bucky battled with his brain while staving off another cresting wave of losing control, Steve pulled his fingers out. Bucky exhaled deeply, his body relaxing, unwinding from the fullness and pressure Steve had placed on his insides, then through a watery gaze he watched in rapture as Steve’s reflection bent down,  _ inspecting _ Bucky’s hole closely, head low as a large finger stretched all around his rim, circling to test how open he was. Usually, Bucky would be squirming, uncomfortable at the scrutiny, would call Steve out on his behaviour - but it was hot. Watching Steve take his time, caring for Bucky and his body, and Bucky could honestly say he’d never had that experience before.

Too many times he’d taken a dick when not properly prepared, and it wasn’t pleasant, not for hours and sometimes days after, and Bucky had never had someone of Steve’s girth before; he knew Steve was aware of what he was doing and had to trust his judgement in this.

“You want to keep going? Or stop here for the night?” Steve’s teasing voice asked.

Bucky growled, he’d never heard such a wild sound erupt from his throat before, it was agony and anger, disbelief and want, all rolled into one god awful forlorn sound and Steve’s chuckle only exacerbated his annoyance.

Then he heard the crinkle of a condom, the snick of the lube and suddenly Steve was above him and his entire body calmed, ire forgotten between one breath and the next. Bucky couldn’t help swing his attention to stare up at Steve, directly into his blue eyes with no mirror between them. 

It was the most glorious sight of Bucky’s entire existence.

“Hi,” he managed to rasp out.

Steve’s face split into a bright indulgent smile. “Hey sweetheart, aren’t you supposed to be looking to your left?”

Captivated by Steve’s expression, the words finally filtered through and he groaned.

Steve’s grin turned into a hard smirk at Bucky’s annoyed tone, “You’re not very polite like this are you? I’m going to have to rectify that behaviour, don’t you think?”

Bucky went pliant, straight away, “Please… yes…”

Steve’s chuckle came again and before Bucky could think, Steve fell forward kissing him thoroughly, until every square inch of breath was stolen. It once again felt too sweet for what position they were in, but Bucky relished in it, loved that Steve was so stern and commanding yet when his lips met Bucky’s, was soft - beautiful.

As Steve pulled away, he gripped Bucky’s chin tightly, “On your left.”

Bucky didn’t try to stop the movement, to fight against Steve’s fingers digging into his skin, he allowed it, eyes soaking up their position in the mirror as his head was forced to the side, gaze raking over his legs pressed up against his chest, the line of Steve’s naked body up against him, hovering over him, making Bucky greedy for more, clenching his ass around air.

He followed Steve’s reflection hungrily as his dick lined with Bucky’s looseness, prodding at first, testing the elasticity, the feel of it, and Bucky tried to move his hips up, to swallow Steve - but Steve had him pinned.

Pumping his hips a few times, Steve’s dick finally pushed past what Bucky thought should be loose, but was in fact still a tight ring of muscle, and Steve halted as Bucky’s body unintentionally tensed at the intrusion.

“Don’t stop,” Bucky moaned, “don’t you dare stop.”

Steve turned his head so he was staring directly into Bucky’s reflected eyes, “Oh, I don’t intend to sweetheart.” Then proceeded to slide in, inch by unfathomable thick inch, slowly, painstakingly patient, ignoring the small gasps and urging of Bucky.

Agonisingly long seconds, minutes, maybe an hour passed, as Bucky clenched and breathed through the biggest experience of his life, no longer able to see himself in the mirror, tears sliding down his temples, across the arch of his nose and he felt like blubbering, crying in relief as Steve finally came to a halt. 

“Breathe for me, babe. I need you to breathe.”

Bucky let out a shuddering rush of air. 

“Fuck,” he ground out, trying his best to listen to Steve’s words and respond accordingly.

But he was so  _ full _ .

He’d never be able to take anything else again, toy  _ or _ flesh and not recall this moment, the exact moment that Bucky Barnes was rendered completely useless, speechless - all from one dick. It was an overly impressive dick though, that belonged to the  _ one _ man who had the capacity to end Bucky, to kill off all thoughts of sleeping with anyone else in the future. And he tried to not think of that - of  _ afterwards _ . 

Bucky’s thoughts continued to splinter, until he felt a softness pressing on the side of his neck.

Surprised, he realised that Steve was nuzzling him, kissing quietly, husking words against his neck in between one press of lips to the next on how perfect Bucky was, how  _ good _ he felt, how Steve loved the way his hole clung around him tight. It all filtered through his haze and he took another shuddering lungful of air and finally came back into himself.

“There you are,” Steve smiled against him.

“I’m… I’m here…” Bucky whispered, blinking back tears until he could see their reflection again - and maybe he shouldn’t have. 

Steve’s body dwarfed him, huge muscular thighs nestled up against the curve of Bucky’s ass as Bucky held his legs up and open, Steve’s torso draped artfully over Bucky’s until there was no space between them except tendrils of air. But it was Steve nestled against Bucky’s neck on the opposite side to the mirror so he couldn’t see his face, that made him falter. It was such an intimate picture of two bodies entwined, and Bucky had a hard time seeing them as real. Even if he could definitely feel every inch, every  _ thick _ inch of it.

“You can… you can move.” Bucky managed out of his too tight throat, and watched as Steve’s head popped up, leaving one last kiss to his collarbone and Bucky shut his eyes for a moment, imagining this in another setting, where Steve whispered different words into his ear. But he stopped that line of thought, he was beyond ecstatic with what he had. Honestly he was.

Steve’s face came into view in the mirror and Bucky blinked, uncertain if the expression he saw was real or his residual wishful thinking. It looked as if Steve’s commanding face, his pursed lips, his impatience on waiting for Bucky to do the right thing was gone, and instead, an absolute look of fondness, of yearning, replaced it. What little air Bucky had left was ripped from him, stolen, lungs now vacant.

“ _ Steve _ ,” Bucky scraped out. And not sure what else might slip out too, he bit the inside of his cheek thinking of a random fact to distract himself, not expecting it to erupt. “Did you know that you can hear a Blue Whale's heartbeat from two miles away?”

The sharp bark of laughter made Bucky arch up, Steve’s dick moving and twitching in his ass from the sudden burst of action.

“You’re just…” Steve shook his head, eyes sparkling in mirth. “I’m not sure about two miles away, but I’m pretty sure I can hear yours right now. I know I can _ feel _ it.”

Bucky took a large inhale, gathering his thoughts, finding a quick grin, “Look, I may just be housing the  _ largest _ piece of anatomy known to modern science. Give me a second to calm down and think straight.”

The quick and unexpected kiss to the corner of his mouth made him start, and he went to move his head, capture Steve’s lips with his, but thought better of it when he saw Steve smirk in the mirror at his hesitant restraint.

“You’re an ass,” Bucky exclaimed and Steve made his cock jump by tensing the muscle and Bucky went from teasing to moaning in a heartbeat. The moment of levity, gone.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked, voice velvet smooth, “Because I’m only asking you once, so you need to make sure you are. When I start, I’m not going to stop.”

Bucky gulped, knowing that if he asked or protested at any stage, Steve would halt before he’d even finished speaking, but it was the idea, the concept that his choice had to be made right then, that if he made the wrong one then it was too bad, that smacked him in the ribs. But he trusted Steve, probably more than he should.

“I’m ready,” he replied.

Steve didn’t wait for the words to be free of Bucky before he raised his hips, dragging his cock long and slow out of Bucky’s body, the lube making the movement smooth - only to slam himself back in - and Bucky cried out. Unable to hold the punchy noise inside, it was the sheer size of Steve that forced the sound out of his mouth - he couldn’t have swallowed it down even if he wanted to.

Each thrust after was paced in a way that made Bucky grunt and groan, gasp for breath on the upstroke, lids shutting at every other push only to have Steve demand him to open them - to watch, and Bucky was in the midst of a crisis. 

He was floating, needing to not watch, else come instantly at seeing their body’s writhing in the mirror, dancing, moving as one, Steve above him, staring down - but he also didn’t want to look away for a single second, miss Steve’s rippling muscles as he systematically pounded into Bucky’s body.

If Bucky died right then, he’d die with the biggest smile, no regrets in his life except for not having approached Steve earlier.

Bucky lost all concept of time as Steve thrust himself further and stronger, words escaping his lips, telling Bucky how good he felt, how  _ tight _ he was, that his cock had never known a more perfect home, that Bucky’s hole was his. 

Yet, he cherished every single sweet nothing whispered and murmured into his ear.

Just as his gasps started to quicken, the familiar tingle making its way up his spine, body tensing and on the cusp - Steve pulled out.

Completely.

“What?” Bucky asked, dazed. Not looking away from the mirror as he’d been ordered, watching as Steve leaned back from his body  _ away  _ from him and got up on his knees, holding the base of the condom so it didn’t slip off (and Bucky had a hysterical thought of Steve trying and failing to find condoms that fit).

“Come on sweetheart. I want to try something else.” Steve paused, and Bucky jolted when a hand rested on his thigh, even though he’d seen the movement coming. “You can let go of your legs now.”

Bucky did as he was told, pins and needles rushing in as more tears prickled, threatening to spill over. He was a mess, skin flushed, eyes glassy and mouth completely wrecked and reddened - and for a split second he didn’t want Steve to look at him, embarrassment at his state flowing into his hazy mind, and he went to duck his head so he couldn’t see himself anymore. A large firm palm stopped his movement though, holding his face and turning it so that he was staring up into a depthless blue, and suddenly lips were on his, devouring him, tongue flicking in deeply and Bucky melted into it. 

How did Steve know exactly what he needed and when?

“You’re exquisite,” Steve whispered against his lips and Bucky had all of two seconds for the fluttering in his chest to take hold before Steve continued, “Now get up.”

The soft yet harsh words parcelled together made Bucky sit up immediately, and before he could ask what Steve wanted, what his intentions were, he was yanked onto Steve’s lap - back against his chest as Steve slid to the edge of the bed to sit upright. Bucky’s legs automatically spread across Steve’s lap, and when Steve pushed Bucky's chin up with strong steady fingers, he found he was staring directly into a reflection of his own blue/grey eyes.

“Oh God,” Bucky rasped.

“I want you to watch this. I want you to watch me fucking your hole, claiming it, _ owning  _ it.”

Bucky whimpered, a sound he’d never made more than once previously, but had let slip over and over in the last hour. He caught Steve’s hooded gaze, the eyes that were pinned on him, dark and mysterious, appearing to hide nothing - and in that moment, Bucky would have believed that Steve felt the same, that he’d been carrying around an unrequited crush. Harboured deep feelings he tried to squash at every turn.

Suddenly Steve lifted Bucky’s legs up, and he stared enraptured as Steve held him easily with one huge forearm at the same time as reaching down to line his dick up against Bucky’s puffy and open rim.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he slid in, the soft smile on his face at odds with the way he gave one sharp jabbing plunge, impaling Bucky so completely that he threw his head back and called out, losing vision on Steve’s reaction. And then Steve started to fuck up into him, thrusting, pounding into his ass hard, and Bucky had front row seats to the entire show, unable to rip his gaze away from where their bodies joined. He knew abstractly that the overwhelming sensations slamming through his body were being caused by what he could see, what he was witnessing, what he felt - but it also seemed he wasn’t there, that it was happening to someone else, it  _ couldn’t _ be happening to him. Bucky wasn’t that lucky. Wasn’t lucky enough to have someone like Steve look after him.

“God, you’re so tight like this, feel so good around me. You feeling good baby?”

Bucky moaned out that ‘yes’ he did, and the next twenty words or so that fell from his mouth were a mantra of Steve's name and nothing else, except the odd begging plea for more.

Steve complied.

All Bucky could see was Steve disappearing and reappearing into his body at a pace so quick and brutally fast that time ceased to exist, and mesmerized, his eyes locked on their joining, he found his orgasm rising again.

“Steve… Steve… I’m going to...” Bucky sucked in air fast, lightheaded all of a sudden, “Can I?” 

“You close baby?” Steve asked in time with his thrusting.

Bucky nodded, head lolling, his neck losing its ability to hold the weight, “Yes… I don’t think… can I?” 

He was desperately trying to express himself, ask permission, worried he'd be in trouble if he didn’t seek it prior, and thankfully Steve took pity on him, slowing his hips, the jabs, until it was a languid press, eventually stilling to almost no movement.

Managing to inhale some much needed air, Bucky found he couldn't keep his eyes away from where Steve was buried in him, watching Steve’s molasses paced thrusts, the sheer girth, as Steve shoved his entire length into Bucky with a long grind at the top, making his toes tingle. And he just about came seeing his own dick twitch as it hit his stomach with every pulse.

His hole expanded beautifully to accommodate Steve's thickness, Bucky was addicted to his rim's strain against the intrusion, watching as Steve pushed into his welcoming body, like it belonged there, and Bucky knew he'd never taken and held onto a dick like Steve’s before.

The trouble being - he now never wanted to let go.

It was only seconds later that he looked up from the sight that rendered him almost incomprehensible, to find Steve staring directly into his eyes, holding them as he pumped in and out, the rhythm relentless, perfectly timed. And Steve had to know what he was doing,  _ did _ know, because if Bucky thought he looked wrecked before - he was now completely devastated. 

Sweat and tears pooled over Bucky’s red and flushed cheeks, damp hair matted against his forehead, lips chapped and dry, chest still slick with saliva from earlier and his poor and utterly fucked out rim was weeping with lube - but the stretch, the burn, the absolute fullness and depth and width that Steve filled, was sensational. Unparalleled.

Bucky had never let himself completely go in bed, had never wanted to, and although he loved the idea of giving up control, had attempted to on a few occasions, he was only just realising in that exact moment with Steve - that he’d been lying to himself.

He’d never let go without reservations before, always holding something of himself back, never allowing another person total authority.

Until then.

Until Steve.

With a clarity that belied how hazy he felt, Bucky realised he was Steve’s, his plaything, a toy, a doll for Steve to fuck and suck, and use in any way he wanted. And Bucky would comply, would do  _ anything _ for this man. If he asked. If he demanded. 

When Bucky looked back up and caught Steve staring intently at him, gaze not breaking, Bucky found he didn't want to glance away either, trapped, mesmerised at the way Steve’s feral expression honed in on his, holding Bucky motionless like a wild animal caught in the crosshairs, too scared to move in case the hunter pulled the trigger. But  _ fuck _ , Bucky wanted that trigger pulled, almost at the end of his stamina, the end of everything. He couldn’t comprehend what would come next, what Steve  _ could _ do next. 

More importantly, he worried about how he would recover afterwards.

Suddenly Steve changed pace and Bucky sighed deeply into it, the pounding a little quicker, harder again, and when Steve bottomed out, buried so tight and deep in Bucky, he circled his hips, grinding up into his ass, and and Bucky whited out, vision blurring at the sensation.

“Oh fuck… Steve - I  _ fuck _ …”

“I’ve got you,” Steve husked back. “Now do as I asked and open your eyes and watch.”

Bucky snapped his eyes back to the mirror, Steve still easily holding both of their weight on the edge of the bed, feeling Steve’s abs tensing then relaxing against the curve of his ass as he fucked him slowly. Steve then grabbed Bucky’s dick in hand, squeezing tight, starting to jerk him in time to the thrusts. Bucky quaked, shivering on Steve and it took all of his willpower to keep his lids open, to remain watchful and witness Steve ruin him for anyone else, watch his demise of one-night stands unfurling before his very eyes. 

Bucky gasped short staccato breaths, eyes flicking to catch Steve’s gaze, who’d not stopped staring directly at Bucky the whole time, and he felt self conscious for all of two seconds until Steve started to fuck him properly. 

Hard, savage and mean. 

Steve’s hand stripped Bucky’s dick, twisting and grasping, before popping off the end.

“God you’re captivating, Buck. So tight around me.”

And Bucky couldn't help preening, Steve using his name in that moment shattered his views, there was no mistaking who Steve was buried in. 

“Wish… wish we didn’t have a barrier,” Bucky moaned, his words catching Steve off guard if the way his eyes widened slightly was anything to go by. And Bucky pushed further, wanting to see what Steve’s reaction would be, “I wish you were bare in me - fucking until you filled me up. Then… then… oh god, you’re so big," Bucky shuddered, "Then - you can put the plug back inside of me, so I have a part of you buried deep, coating my insides... so I could feel you for hours after.”

Steve’s lips attacked Bucky’s neck, teeth digging in to bite lightly, and Bucky threw his head back, giving Steve all the room he needed. Steve growled at the motion, kissing, nipping, sucking, while husking out filthy words about filling him up, taking him over and over, plugging him like a stopper until all he could feel was Steve’s come, and Jesus did Bucky want that - he wanted it so hopelessly.

But right then.

Right in that moment.

He was about to come.

“I can’t… I need - can I?” Bucky’s voice was merely a thread, thin and plaintive. Almost gone, a whisper - begging.

Steve intensified his movements until Bucky once again had tears streaming down his face from holding off, tightening his gut to stop coming, it was painful in the most delightful way.

“Now, Bucky,” Steve directed. 

And a switch went off, the minute Steve gave permission, Bucky started to spurt all over himself, white stripes coating his chest, his stomach, dripping down over Steve’s arm as it held him taut, held him close. He shuddered, clenching around Steve’s dick, trying to milk Steve’s orgasm from him, wondering what Steve would feel like skin-in-skin. Would Steve be able to hold on for long? Or would he be sensitive, come when Bucky tightened himself bare around him?

As he came down, sweaty and sated, exhaustion crept heavily into his bones. His second orgasm of the night ripped what little energy he had left and he slumped, dick giving a residual twitch, a small glob of almost clear white come drooling down the side of it. But Steve was there, always there, catching his body, and as Bucky’s head sagged backward onto Steve’s broad shoulder, Steve’s lips left trails of small soft kisses over the damp skin.

“You’re so good, so insanely perfect. I can’t believe I get you, can be inside of you. I just need a little bit more, have you got that for me? Then I’ll look after you.”

Bucky nodded sleepily, slurring ‘yes’ and instantly Steve started to ram into him, Bucky crying out, he was so sensitive, almost numb, but he relaxed into it, knowing Steve would take care of everything. He'd promised, he told Bucky he would.

Steve pumped harder and faster, Bucky bouncing around on his lap like a rag doll at his behest, completely at Steve’s mercy, and Bucky was blissed, floating, happy as Steve used his hole to get off. And Bucky wanted that, needed Steve to come, to complete, know how good Bucky really was for him, hopefully entice Steve back to his bedroom again for more.

He had no knowledge of how long Steve thrust into him, Bucky was languid, on another plane of existence, enjoying being held close, tight in arms so strong and sturdy as Steve pounded over and over again into his wrung out body.

“Oh God, sweetheart, I need you to clench around me, now!”

And with the last of his energy reserves, Bucky squeezed around Steve who shouted into his ear, lips latching onto his neck and he slammed in one more time, dick buried deep in Bucky as he pulsed, coming so hard that Bucky could feel the throb of Steve’s cock through the condom. Bucky relished seeing Steve come undone in the reflection, the way he twitched and sucked onto the skin of Bucky’s neck and shoulder, as if he had to have a point of contact at all times. And Bucky was too tired, exhausted, had run out of steam, and when Steve laid back on the bed, bringing Bucky with him, dick sliding out, making Bucky whimper from the loss of connection, the loss of having Steve inside - Steve wrapped him up tightly and Bucky found himself splayed across Steve’s huge heaving chest.

The last thing Bucky remembered was the softest press of lips to his forehead and a whispered word that Bucky wasn't sure was real or in his head.

“Mine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello intrepid travellers on this little (big) journey with me! We take this opportunity to place a little plot within the timeline - so bear with me as these boys come to a few realisations... and maybe might communicate! 
> 
> Also you may notice the chapter count has gone up by one... sigh - so beause of 'plot' this chapter became a monster and I had to split it in two - so rest assured the last two are going to be full of Bucky getting exactly what he deserves ;)
> 
> But first - FIRST - the incomparable @FoxyBucky on Twitter has absolutely blown me away with the most stunning and Gorgeous piece of artwork for this fic - I'm ridiculously humbled that my words inspired another creator - please go and salivate over Steve and how she's captured this one moment so utterly perfect - right [ here](https://twitter.com/foxybucky/status/1358955298988425229?s=19)  
> !
> 
> Thank you once again for the freaking amazing response to this - so go ahead, read on and enjoy these boys figuring out what's what!

Bucky awoke the next morning, completely and utterly exhausted  _ and _ completely and utterly fucked. For a long moment he lay staring up at the ceiling, not knowing the time, what day it was, how his body was now clean, and more importantly - he had no idea of Steve’s location. 

He was alone.

And it was that last factor in his 'just woke up' haze that really made Bucky's brain come back on line - had Steve left him? Had he told Bucky he was going back to sleep in his own room? Or had he just slunk out in the dead of night?

Trying to recall through the haze of memories and picking out what was truth and what wasn’t, was harder than Bucky thought. His mind kept derailing at the strength and size of Steve, of being caged in by those huge arms, Steve towering over his body, telling him what to do, controlling his pleasure until he came - twice.

But of course it didn't help him that morning as he looked groggily across the expanse of sheets,  _ clean _ sheets - and he couldn’t remember changing them - had Steve? _ No _ , that would be ludicrous, Steve wouldn’t have taken the time to strip and replace the bedding? Though when he pushed his nose against the sheets, he found the light scent of the fabric softener he used filling his senses. But why would Steve bother?

As Bucky stewed on the implication and oddity that was his bed, he looked over to see the mirror, a flush flowing through his system, heat trailing in a blaze behind it at what had occurred with only their reflections as witnesses. And Bucky couldn’t wait for it to happen again.

His brain stalled.

Would it happen again?

_ Could _ it happen again?

They’d not discussed a next time, not truly, and Bucky was suddenly under the awful impression that his initial gut feeling may have been correct, that it might have been a one night only deal. Steve’s absence from the bed was an indication of that. But now that he’d had Steve inside of him, stretching him, so much so that Bucky felt like he was close to Nirvana, how could he live with never experiencing that all consuming lust and desire again? The loss of who he was, giving himself over to another person's care without fear? Steve’s care.

He couldn’t.

That was the simple answer.

So with more courage than he thought he possessed, Bucky climbed out of bed. He wasn’t even two feet to the floor when the aches immediately commenced, his knees were to be expected, the hard surface of the table and then holding himself bent for hours was never going to tickle at his age, but it was his ass, his poor abused and grateful hole, that felt like fire. Looking up as he took his first step in trepidation, his eyes fell to the mirror again, and because it was right there, right before him - he had to look - had to see the damage done. And as he maneuvered himself to sit carefully on the edge of his bed, leaning back, legs spread to look, he couldn’t stop the gasp escaping.

“Oh fuck…” he whispered. 

He was red and raw, puffed up, not gaping, but with a careful prod and a hiss to his sensitive rim, he found he wasn’t as tight as usual, and knew it would take a day or two for the hurt to ease, the aches to leave his skin. He wondered if it would be like that each time they played,  _ if _ they played again. Steve was big, larger than anyone he’d ever slept with and he felt his stomach quiver at the memory of Steve’s thick length sliding into him the night before.

Sucking in a breath and shaking his head to clear it, Bucky knew if he was lucky enough to have Steve on a regular basis, his body would get used to him, his girth, his size, and wouldn’t need as much prep. Wouldn’t wake so sore and tender - though he’d always wear it like a badge of honour.

When he sat back up, a whiff of aloe vera filtered into his nostrils and he knew, just knew, that Steve had used it on him - on his sore and stretched out muscles, and the image of Steve lathering the cream on his skin, rubbing it in after cleaning him down, was comforting and made something deep in Bucky’s chest pulse. As he sat thinking way too hard about Steve tending to him the night before, he saw the end of his bed tucked in neatly, knowing immediately it had been remade, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel a kinship with his bedding - that somehow over the course of the night Steve had remade him as well. Bucky didn’t feel like the same person as before - but couldn’t work out who this new Bucky was.

What he did know was that he was well worn,  _ used _ and it was as if Steve still possessed him in some way even though he wasn’t in the room - yet through the thin walls of their apartment - Bucky felt his overwhelming presence all the same.

Pulling on a pair of sweats, he steeled his nerves and found resolve lurking deeply and went to leave the safe space that was his room, the intent to make the long trek to the living room, heart in his throat, skin feverish, not sure what he was going to find when he faced Steve. 

Before he opened the door, Bucky glanced over a shoulder at his reflection to make sure he was presented well enough and stopped in his tracks, a low moan escaping his mouth, dick no longer limp against his thigh, starting to fill, just enough to make it heavy in his pants. There was a mark on his shoulder, right on the fleshy part, before it reached the junction of his neck. It was bright red and angry, the tinge of bruise around the clear outline of a shallow imprint of teeth. Inhaling hard through his nose, Bucky was riveted, eyes following the pattern, not able to tear his gaze away as his fingers traced over the slight bumps in his skin. 

Steve had marked him -  _ branded _ him. Bucky’s knees went weak and he grabbed hold of the door handle else he fall onto his sore and tender ass.  _ Fuck _ , it was on  _ his _ body. He’d never possessed something so large and all consuming as Steve’s mark on him, the huge imprint that screamed he’d been taken from behind, a reminder of their night. 

He grabbed a t-shirt and threw it on, covering himself, cheeks pink in the knowledge of what lay hidden underneath the fabric.

When he finally managed to get his fingers to work and open the door, he heard the soft hush of the TV, and walked out to see Steve, head buried in his laptop, working on the weekend, and Bucky wasn’t sure what to say, how to approach the situation, his blood running cold at the huge ‘what now’ that hung over him - but then Steve’s head snapped up at hearing Bucky’s shuffle, eyes landing on him immediately.

“Hey…” Steve trailed off and stood quickly, laptop carelessly thrown on the floor, “Hey. Buck - how you doing?”

And it was a loaded question - how on earth was he supposed to answer that? And more importantly  _ could _ he answer? His throat was still raw from being jammed full of Steve’s immense cock and screaming all night... and he should not have thought about that.

“Oh I’m…” the rasp was awful so he stopped and coughed once to clear his throat, and Steve’s eyes tightened in the corners, mouth turning down and it looked like he was annoyed for a second, but his face cleared as he walked towards Bucky, and Bucky could only stare like a deer in the headlights, no other words escaping as he watched Steve’s body closing in on him. Was Steve annoyed at him? Was Steve going to touch him? What should he expect?

But Steve stopped a yard or so away, not entering his personal space, eyes watching Bucky closely and Bucky frowned in confusion, swallowed hard, waiting, wondering what Steve would do. What he would say.

“I’m fine.” Bucky finally said into the silent chasm between them, holding back a wince at how flat and impassive it sounded. He tried to think of something to say to bring it back, to be more upbeat, to beg Steve to take care of him. “You working then?”

That was not what he’d intended to say. Not in the slightest.

A long noiseless sigh escaped from between Steve’s lips, his vast shoulders sagging with the motion, and his muted blue eyes averted to the side for a second, looking conflicted, before he blinked and focused back on Bucky, a kind look on his face. It was _ not _ the look of a man about to ravage his housemate. Bucky, now ever more uncertain and awkward, found he couldn't move or blurt out what he wanted, how he felt - all his courage from earlier had fled at the sight of Steve, golden, tall and larger than life before him.

“Err, yeah, I had a quote I needed to finalise… wanted to get it done first up, before... well, just because. You’re up earlier than usual?”

Bucky blinked once, unable to comprehend the polite conversation between them after the night they’d shared, and for all the screaming erupting inside of Bucky’s brain, to reach out, to touch, to press Steve for something - he remained silent, scared to voice his wants.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was all he managed to bite out.

And Steve didn’t embrace him, tell Bucky everything he wanted to hear, instead he reached out and hesitated before landing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing once then moving past him towards the kitchen. Bucky’s stomach turned over. He was such a coward.

“Here, I’ve put coffee on for you. And I was making oatmeal - with honey? Do you want some?”

Bucky could only nod in response as Steve studied him for the longest moment, then told Bucky to sit on the sofa and that he’d bring it in.

Mind spinning with a million unasked questions, but doing as he was told, Bucky sat, wincing and squirmed in place, trying to find a position that wasn’t pressing on all of his sore bits, and leaned back, working through what had just happened.

For starters, Bucky had lost his nerve, a thin thread that snapped in the face of Steve’s imposing frame walking towards him, but it was Steve’s reaction that befuddled him, confused him, did he regret the night before? Did he enjoy it? Were they even going to discuss it? It didn’t seem likely at that point and Bucky swallowed down the thickness in his throat. He knew all of Steve’s one-night stands were only that - one night. And just because they lived together didn’t mean this would be different, and Steve was a  _ very _ certain type of person, very straightforward and would have addressed the situation if he’d intended to say anything. 

Bucky was pushing aside the voice screaming into the void that he had a say - that he could ask for things too and decided that maybe he’d just wait it out - let Steve take the lead, because wasn’t that what their dynamic the night before was all about? 

Moments later as his brain continued to yell opposing thoughts at him, a steaming mug of coffee was placed in his hands and Bucky looked up, taking it with a muted thanks. Steve, hesitated for the barest moment, mouth opening to say something and Bucky held his breath, it was the moment of truth - until the unmistakable smell of oatmeal hit the room.

“Oh crap - hang on.” Steve ran back to save an overflowing situation and Bucky was left holding his coffee, staring blankly into space.

Steve never picked up where he’d left off, just passed over the food with a soft smile that was as warm as the bowl in Bucky’s hands and they ate in silence, Steve’s leg pressed up against Bucky’s on the sofa. But no words were spoken and each mouthful started to taste like ash, the honey at least a salve for his sore throat. 

Surprisingly, he managed to eat the full bowl, his body’s instincts to nourish overriding the roiling in his stomach, and Steve grabbed the empty bowl from his numb fingers and turned to him, eyes moving across Bucky’s features before smiling, and Bucky’s heart lurched.

“Are you full? Do you need anything else?”

Bucky didn’t respond straight away, waiting for more, hoping for more, and when nothing was forthcoming, he shook his head, saying that he was good. But Steve’s eyes lingered for another moment before he stood up and disappeared into his room.

“Well shit,” Bucky breathed out, schooling his features into nonchalant, hiding the disappointment weighing heavily in his chest. He had to remind himself for the twentieth time that no promises were made, it was a heat of the moment interaction that,  _ sure _ , ended up the best few hours of Bucky’s entire life, and he knew he shouldn’t be looking for more, wasn't entitled to more. 

Steve returned momentarily with the dreaded foam roller in his hand, and placed it on the floor, and Bucky rolled his eyes, unable to help his instinctual response to the torture device and Steve’s face lit up at his reaction.

“Come on, it’ll be good for you - you shouldn’t let an injury like that fester. On the floor.”

And Bucky’s traitorous dick perked up at the order, and he willed it away as he climbed down to the ground, placing his shin’s weight on the roller and also his forearms, and commenced the next ten minutes of absolute pain - and not in the good way. Even the fact that Steve hovered, telling him to tilt his hips, to get a better angle didn’t make the experience more pleasant. It just plain hurt. 

He craved Steve’s touch on him, to guide his body with pressure on the roller - to want to reach out and place his hands on Bucky. But Steve didn’t. Steve sat back giving advice, and making sure Bucky did it right - but no more. He was acting like Bucky had revoked all permission to touch him, and he hadn’t, would never. 

Bucky went to say as much, but the words caught in his throat.

Afterwards as Bucky delicately rose and sat on the sofa, Steve was right before him with a large glass of water, stating that Bucky had to drink it all. He did as asked, if only to see the pleased smile Steve presented him with as he passed the empty glass back, Steve then returned from the kitchen with sliced fruit on a plate for them to share. And Bucky was bursting - needing Steve to say  _ something,  _ hell,  _ anything _ , but he didn’t.

So Bucky grabbed the remote control, ignoring the implications of how Steve used it the night before and changed the channel, looking over at Steve with what he hoped was a neutral bright friendly grin.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

Steve paused at Bucky’s tone, staring into his eyes, his words slow and measured, “if that’s what  _ you _ want to do.”

Bucky breathed out a sigh, ignoring the pounding in his temples, “Yeah - I need a sofa day. Just chill out, relax and not think about anything at all. Clear my mind.”

Sitting down at the other end of the sofa, legs no longer touching, Bucky watched as Steve’s fingers gripped his own knee tightly, flexing a few times, clenching and unclenching before he nodded, “We can do anything you want, anything at all. Are you…” Steve paused and looked over at Bucky, something tight in his features, and Bucky glanced back at the TV, “Are you feeling okay though?”

“Peachy,” Bucky replied in his usual cheery tone, a standard response he always gave, it was safe and known. And it was only half way through The Expendables, because he needed some mindless action he didn’t have to pay attention to, that he wondered if Steve might have been asking him something else entirely.

  
  


Bucky spent the rest of the day in a continual state of flux, words constantly on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask Steve to make his deepest desires come true, to just  _ take _ him, force him to talk, and Steve,  _ Steve _ was so fucking attentive - it was driving him mad. And although it was wonderful to be in Steve’s orbit, to have him do things, mundane things for him, there was no intimacy, no touching, and he needed to tell Steve how much their night meant to him, even if nothing would come from it. But Bucky wasn’t sure how to articulate his thoughts without appearing needy, or blurting like a sexed up fanboy that it was the best night of his life - period.

So he sat next to Steve on the sofa, watching movies, having silent conversations in his head, all while  _ so  _ aware Steve was less than two feet away - close enough to touch if Bucky reached out. 

He didn't.

Later that evening after watching Expendables 3, when they said their goodnights, Bucky hesitated, noting how Steve's eyes honed in on him, yet Steve remained quiet, never took control or ordered Bucky to follow him to his room. And swallowing down a million pleading words, Bucky gave a small wave, spinning before he had to witness Steve turn his back, to watch him walk to his room - alone.

But when Bucky climbed into bed, _ his _ bed, the bed that Steve ruined him in the night before - that was when the real issue arose. The moment Bucky’s back hit the mattress, his hand curled around his hard and throbbing dick, ass still too tender for the toy, but he pressed against the sore skin of his rim, rubbing, whimpering because it wasn’t enough - he needed Steve. Wanted the stretch, the thickness, the complete ownership of his body - it didn’t help that it was all still so fresh in his mind. 

Sleep didn’t arrive easily. 

He also didn’t come.

The next morning Bucky lay in bed longer than usual, having a late start for work, and balled himself up on his side, cocooned in his comforter and stared at his window, watching the dawn sunlight dance over the frame, and sighed deeply. He kept catching himself making up excuses to stay put all day, not move, just mope.

And Bucky knew he needed to grow a pair, get up and ask Steve what was going on. But he honestly was too scared to voice it. He was worried that if he asked for more, for another night, that Steve would say no.

But what was the alternative?

Masturbating in his room every night over a memory? Or being brave enough,  _ confident _ enough in himself to see if there was the smallest chance Steve would be agreeable to another round - or fifty?

The attraction between them was off the charts, Steve couldn't have faked it, so if Bucky capitalized on the physicality of their connection, surely Steve would be agreeable?

Sitting up slowly, he rested against his headboard, a slight twinge all that was left deep inside of him, and he didn’t want to lose that feeling, he didn’t want to wake up alone again the next day and feel fine, have no pangs - no reminder that Steve had taken him so brutally sweet.

In the end he came to a decision - what did he have to lose after all? His dignity for sure, but at that point, did he really even have any?

He slid out of bed and stretched, rubbing his eyes, scratching slowly at his head - and knew he was stalling. Looking around his room, he tried to find inspiration for a plan, and caught sight of his naked back in the mirror, and an idea formed.

Bucky needed to test the waters, uncertain if he had the backbone to outright ask for what he desired, but he sure had the capacity to try and hint at it sneakily. And if Steve seemed amenable, maybe Bucky could grovel. On his knees. Mouth open. Prove to Steve how good he could be.

Leaving his room in the guise of needing coffee, wearing tartan sleep pants, yawning tiredly, Bucky ensured the pants were the same ones he wore that fateful night, and immediately felt Steve’s eyes fall on him when he walked out. Bucky also purposely left his chest bare, knowing that when he turned his back, if Steve was watching, he’d see the large angry spot on his shoulder. Right where Steve had bitten him,  _ marked _ him.  _ Steve’s _ brand. The bruise now fully formed, unmistakable for what it was.

“Morning,” Bucky greeted as he walked past. The low growl from the sofa when Bucky entered the kitchen was promising. And a thrill shot up his spine.

Steve appeared at the door immediately, suited up, clearly ready to leave for work, and Bucky grinned, masking it when he glanced back over his shoulder to find Steve’s eyes riveted to Bucky’s neck. Bucky flushed at the hungry gaze, and hoped his skin colouring remained neutral and didn’t give him away.

“Want one in a travel mug to go?” Bucky asked, grabbing his own ceramic mug off the sink, and pouring coffee from the pot. The rich, decadent smell weaved through his senses, calming his jittery nerves.

The gruff ‘yes’ in response had Bucky smiling down into his coffee as he added cream.

But before Bucky could open the cupboard above his head to grab Steve’s mug, Steve was there, in his space, reaching up, suit brushing against Bucky’s bare skin. Bucky closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, scenting the pure masculinity that was  _ all _ Steve. It was the closest they’d been since their night together, and even though there was a wall of expensive fabric between them, and the press of Steve's body was featherlight, almost undetectable - Bucky was wired, awareness zinging through him. His stomach quivered uncontrollably in want.

“Sleep well?” Steve murmured, so close to Bucky’s ear, he could feel the puff of air when Steve exhaled.

Bucky shrugged, knowing the movement would make the teeth marks rise and fall,  _ right _ before Steve’s eyes - then he went for the kill. “I should have gone to the gym last night, worn myself out so I could sleep well. I always rest better after sweating up a storm.”

It was as blatant as Bucky was willing to go, hoping like hell it was enough to entice Steve to him, to make Steve want a repeat performance. Bucky would even be happy giving Steve a hand job at that point, and nothing else - just so he could see if his hazy memory did Steve’s dick justice.

“Buck...” Steve ground out, warm fingers coming to rest on the small of Bucky’s bare back and he leaned into it immediately, no hesitation, and turned to look up at Steve who was only a breath away. The blue of Steve’s eyes was murky, swirling with hidden thoughts, and Bucky caught his breath, knowing his guileless gaze was giving everything away. Steve’s hand moved up Bucky’s spine in a slow sensuous trail, until he cupped the base of Bucky’s neck. And Bucky shook, knowing Steve could feel the tremor.

Steve’s phone suddenly blared from his pocket, it was his last alarm, the one that meant if Steve didn’t leave within a minute or two he’d miss his train into the city. 

“Fuck,” Steve’s hand dissapeared from his skin, and Bucky deflated, annoyed at his timing, of having ruined the chance when it looked so optimistic. Steve switched the alarm off and slid the phone into his suit pocket, catching Bucky’s eye once more, the sheer and unadulterated want in them made Bucky’s toes curl. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Frowning at the question, the words catching him off guard, Bucky slowly shook his head, puzzled.

“No, I was planning on going to the gym after work, but I’m flexible.”

Steve inhaled sharply at the words and Bucky flushed, realising what he’d uttered, and Steve grabbed his travel mug and took what appeared to be a reluctant step back.

“Shit. I don't have time to say what… Alright - don’t go to the gym tonight. Come straight home from work and get dressed up.”

“Err, okay?” Bucky questioned, completely confused. 

“I’m taking you to Enzo’s.”

Bucky baulked, he’d heard of Enzo’s, of course he had, you couldn’t live in Brooklyn and not know of the ostentatious eatery that had more Michelin stars than Bucky had Happy Meals in his life. It was a nice restaurant, a very nice  _ date _ restaurant.

“Enzo’s,” he echoed, still unsure if he’d misheard or not.

“Yes,” Steve replied, voice patient as he took a sip of coffee and quickly checked his watch, swearing under his breath. “I expect you to be showered and ready by the time I get back tonight.”

Bucky’s dick perked up at the tone - the commanding no nonsense 'you'll obey me' tone he’d been craving to hear for the past day.

“I can do that,” Bucky replied as Steve gave him a smile laced in promise as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Oh and sweetheart...” 

Bucky looked up, eyes wide, breath laboured, chest heaving at the damn endearment he knew could kill him, as Steve stood in the doorway staring at him with intent.

“I expect you to put your plug in and hand me the remote before we leave.”

Bucky gulped at the way Steve took a moment to focus on Bucky, sweeping his gaze head to toe, slowly, full of heat, and before Bucky knew it, Steve left the apartment with a loud click of the front door. 

He'd somehow manifested his deepest wish. But what exactly was it going to cost?

Whatever it was, Bucky knew he was going to have one hell of a night.

  
  


Bucky had been a bundle of nerves, trepidation and excitement all day, his boss asking if he needed to take personal time as he was so janky. Bucky took it, wanting to spend as many hours as he could to prepare himself for what the night could bring. 

He had no idea what to expect, what Steve was up for, and Bucky knew that no matter the outcome, he'd take anything. Was desperate for it, addicted, unable to stay away. To say no.

After expending more care on himself than he ever had before, Bucky, keyed up and half hard, plug snugly in place, was ready and waiting for Steve when he returned home from work, and they left almost immediately. 

They’d only been seated in their secluded back corner of the swanky restaurant for fifteen minutes and Bucky was already on a knife's edge. From the instant Steve placed the remote in his pocket at their apartment, disinterested, as if it were nothing but car keys, Bucky knew, just  _ knew _ that Steve was thumbing it each time he looked over at him. The heat and intention in his eyes, strong and heady, Bucky’s head spinning at the implications.

Then Steve pulled an absolute power move, taking the control from his pocket, placing it carefully on the table, slow, his movements exaggerated, ensuring it was out of the watchful eyes of the waiter, but in full view of Bucky. It was burning a hole in his patience. Steve was clearly playing a long game, a game of anticipation - of killing Bucky slowly through an unresolved orgasm.

But since the small black device had been on the table, Steve had so far ignored it, and Bucky was gasping, barely concealing his squirming, glad the large napkin hid his rapidly growing bulge. The edge so close, Bucky’s tether taut, ready to snap, waiting for the promised nudge, the all consuming vibration to make his world pinpoint to nothing but sensation and Steve.

“So, how’ve you been?” Steve asked with an upwards tilt to his mouth.

“Really?” Bucky exclaimed under his breath, though he knew Steve heard him.

And it wasn’t as if Bucky was surprised at the question, had half expected Steve to start on small talk, not go straight to the elephant in the room - or plug in Bucky’s case. He’d been waiting for the past half an hour for something to give, for Steve to relent, but Steve took a sip of his beer, hands nowhere near the control, so his question was serious. Steve really wanted to know how he was, but was Bucky honest, saying that his insides were shaking with anticipation enough to blur his vision? Voice his concern that over the last 24 hours they hadn't spoken about what had occured between them? Or did he lie and be polite?

“I’m okay, work’s been busier than usual, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Steve paused minutely, drink hovering before his lips for a mere second before he took another sip, and Bucky could have chalked the hesitation up to his imagination but he was watching Steve closely - too closely.

“I don't think there is much you  _ can't _ handle.” Steve said, tone silky smooth, brow rising in an arch.

Bucky choked on the beer he thought was safe to sip, he should have realised Steve wasn’t going to play nice, considering he ordered Bucky to plug up, only to ignore the fact he had it inserted.

“I try my best,” he replied in a voice that was both questioning and teasing, and by the shift of Steve’s eyebrow he’d heard the sass.

“Yes. Yes you do. Don’t you?”

Bucky dropped his eyes to the empty place setting before him at the smoldering tone, and wanted to ask what they were doing - what Steve wanted, if there was anything else on the table other than just another night of sex, but his words were lost when Steve’s long leg found it’s way across the space to rest against Bucky’s. Shin to shin, pressed up against each other and Bucky couldn’t help but press back. The touch, comforting in a wildly crazy unknown situation.

Steve changed the subject suddenly, speaking about the game coming up that weekend, and Bucky was in whiplash, thoughts never straying from how full he felt, but also with the knowledge that he’d been fuller and he found it hard to concentrate on Steve’s words, especially when he noticed that the control was no longer on the table - where was it?

“Are you listening to me, sweetheart?”

And  _ oh... _

Bucky knew what was about to happen a second before the plug began to vibrate. It was electric, coursing through his body, not having worn it since their night of play, had been too sore at first and then it didn’t feel right unless Steve knew he was wearing it.

“I… can... I can listen.”

“I know you can. But, Buck, you need to do better for me.”

Bucky’s mouth went dry as Steve’s leg pressed firmly into his, and Bucky sat back on his chair, allowing the plug to make him feel good, enjoying the touch of their legs, giving Steve the show he obviously wanted. He wasn’t concerned about other patrons, they weren’t close enough to them, tucked away privately as they were. So unless someone specifically walked up to the table, then they would have no idea what was said or what they were doing. And Bucky knew Steve had paid extra to be placed in that particular area.

Bucky had never been one for public sex, or any voyerism that included being caught outside with his dick out (not that he didn’t love outdoor sex - but it had to be controlled) but right then, as the nudging inside increased by a couple of points and his mouth fell open as Steve stared directly into his eyes, willing him not to close his, to keep their connection - Bucky would have agreed to anything, including bending over the table and letting Steve take him in front of the fancy waitstaff and patrons wearing designer clothes.

“Oh shit…” Bucky whispered as the plug suddenly jolted making it hard to breathe, to think.

Yet somehow he managed to keep a steady gaze on Steve, focussing on the intense sparkling blue, seeing the pleased quirk to Steve’s mouth in his peripheral, needing to be good, to show how he could listen.

“You’re the perfect date, Buck - have I mentioned that yet?”

And Bucky finally blinked, mind whirling at  _ that _ word, eyes darting to the side before landing back on Steve, “this is a… date?”

Of all the expressions he expected to see on Steve’s face, surprised was not one of them. And even though it only lasted a bare second, Bucky wondered if he'd said something wrong, and almost snatched the words back, wishing he’d remained coy and not questioned it.

The plug suddenly stopped, went quiet, and Steve pocketed the remote, face unreadable as he placed his elbows on the table and sat up straight, serious - imposing. Bucky was still in the clutch of arousal from being stimulated, but managed to sit up too, the plug pushing inside of him, and he gasped as it pressed against his prostate, before moving again to release the pressure.

"Bucky," Steve began, then paused for a moment, waiting for Bucky's attention, he gave it in full. "What do you think we are doing here?"

And Bucky realised it was a question, not an order, not part of their game, and tripped over his answer.

"Err, I think we're about to have appetisers that cost more than a permanent car park in Brooklyn."

The returning look he received did  _ not _ instil confidence in his ability to joke. So he cleared his throat and tried again. "I was hoping that we were having fun. Right?"

"Fun…" Steve echoed, frowning, "well, yes, I agree, we're definitely having fun, but is that all?"

Bucky faltered once again, knowing his face was flushed from both the plug and the question, "I… I don’t know."

"You don't -" Steve stared at Bucky, eyes darting over his face, searching for who knew what, whatever it was made Bucky’s insides swirl though. "Bucky, did you think the other night was a once off?"

"Um…" Bucky ducked his head and steeled his nerve, "I guess, well, yeah, I did."

"Oh." And that's all Steve said, and for the first time since their short lived dalliance started, Steve looked a little lost, like he’d done the wrong thing, had misstepped, that he'd pushed Bucky in a direction that he’d not been begging for.

"You... the next day," Bucky tried to voice, having to clear his throat of butterflies, the situation surreal, the conversation they were having as he was stuffed full of toy in one of the most expensive restaurants in Brooklyn. "You didn't touch or take control, order me… you left me alone. So I assumed..."

Bucky shrugged and trailed off, watching as Steve frowned at first and then saw comprehension dawn. He felt the scratch of hope in his chest at the expression.

"Shit, no, that's not," Steve ran a shaking hand over his face and gave a wry laugh, "I'm an idiot, okay, Buck. The other night was intense, probably the most intense I've ever had, and you were so out of it. I was giving you space after you came out of your room yesterday looking shocked and acting a little regretful, flippant even." Steve sat back and Bucky saw him take a deep breath, controlling himself, "I wanted you to work out how you felt, what you wanted - I worried that I pushed you too far without asking full permission first. I needed you to be sure before we took this further. Then you sashayed out with my teeth imprinted in your neck and... I… I couldn’t help but touch, to ask for more with hope you’d not deny me." 

Bucky listened to Steve's deep voice, hearing the words, but not really taking them in. How did Steve not understand that Bucky would do anything, would  _ take _ all that Steve could give and then beg for more? It had to be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Steve, I literally cleaned up and put the plug in with no questions tonight,  _ none _ whatsoever. It was instinctual when you ordered it." Bucky's face filled with heat, he'd not meant to blurt that out, confirming how easy he was for Steve's attention, and taking a breath, he continued, a slight quiver in his voice. "I want whatever you’re willing to give, and I know that you have different needs, I’ve seen the people who visit and when they -"

"Used to visit," Steve interrupted.

"Sorry?" Bucky was thrown off his train of thought by Steve's hushed interjection.

Steve held his gaze for the longest moment before huffing out a disbelieving breath, "You really  _ don't _ know. Do you?"

"Know what?" Bucky asked, mouth dry at the potent stare he was receiving.

A plate abruptly appeared before him, stalling all conversation, and Bucky blinked, coming out of his daze as the waiter explained what had been served, only half hearing ceviche and a random fish name. And although Bucky's mouth watered at the delicious smells emanating from under his nose, he looked up to find Steve’s unwavering gaze locked on him - a halfway amused expression on his face.

Steve thanked the waiter and ordered a bottle of wine, but didn’t pick up his fork as expected, he waited, Bucky mimicked Steve’s lack of movement.

“Buck, I haven't had anyone over in a long time, months in fact, not since I…” Steve ran a hand through his hair and Bucky sat motionless, not wanting to break the profound and heart thumping connection between them. “Not since the realisation that _I_ could give you what you craved, called out for, begged but never received. And that I wanted to do that for you, and _only_ for you.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed momentarily, throat too tight for anything except the eruption of the smallest disbelieving noise. Was Steve indicating that he’d stopped sleeping with other people because of  _ him? _

“I don’t…” Bucky took a sip of his half flat beer and looked up at Steve with wide eyes, “why me?”

He’d not intended his words to come out so uncertain, soft and wondering. Bucky knew he was worthy of many things - but Steve’s attention was something so high, so unattainable that he was floored.

“Oh sweetheart, you are perfect in every way and I want to show you that. I want to tease every whimper, shudder, and tear from your body until you’ve come so much you’re limp and languid in my arms. I want to look after you, Buck.” The words swirled across the table, smacking into Bucky’s chest, leaving an imprint so large that he knew when he took off his shirt later, he’d see the physical residue of letters on his skin. “Only if that’s something you’d want, and I don't mean just tonight. I want to look after you for as long as you'll let me.”

Stunned, Bucky slumped back in his chair and winced when the plug hit the walls of his ass, and his mouth dropped open unintentionally, it was too much, his head was spinning and he was  _ so _ full. Steve’s eyes darkened as he worked out the reason behind Bucky’s reaction, and not for the first time, Bucky felt like he had the power, the control, the final say. 

It was a heady sensation.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” Steve clarified, a sense of urgency in his words, though his demeanor was calm and patient. 

Bucky knew Steve wanted a response straight away, but Bucky was in a jumble, head floating at the revelations Steve had laid bare on the table, and he tried his best to sort through everything cramming in his brain demanding attention all at once. He needed to find space between the calamity to settle, to think, to muse over his choices. But was there even a choice?

“Is everything alright here, Sir?” The waiter was back, a puzzled and concerned look on his face at their untouched food.

“Everything is wonderful,” Steve replied curtly, “Thank you.”

The words had a sharp finality about them, and the waiter scurried off with an apologetic nod of his head, Bucky immediately shutting his eyes - the tone Steve had used making his insides quiver.  _ Christ _ \- Steve was the best thing to have ever happened to him.

“Buck?” Steve questioned again, and Bucky opened his eyes, looking over at the large blonde sitting across from him, immaculate in his tailored suit, blue eyes wary, but hopeful. And Bucky took a moment to really focus, to take his time and study how this man, this imposing and wonderful man before him knew exactly what Bucky needed and how to give it to him. Exhilaration welled within him for the future they could share, and Bucky smiled, letting the expression slowly spread, Steve responding straight away. Pleased that Bucky was happy.

Although Bucky wanted to tease and draw the moment out, making Steve sweat, he couldn’t do it, he was too elated, too thrilled with what was on offer, and although he had questions, he sat up straighter, leaning his chin on a balled up fist and grinned.

“Yes, Steve. That’s something I’d be  _ very _ interested in.”

The long relieved exhale Steve let escape made Bucky feel a hundred feet tall, but then suddenly 190 pounds of pure muscle was shooting up out of the seat, reaching over the table, grasping Bucky tie, before yanking him up out of his chair into a half standing position. Warm lips captured Bucky’s, tongue snaking in immediately, and Bucky sighed into Steve’s mouth, letting him take control, lead the kiss. As Steve’s tongue traced the inside of Bucky’s mouth leaving no place unexplored, the plug began to vibrate and Bucky moaned deep and low, Steve’s smile pressed on his lips making Bucky feel worthy of every bit of attention.

The tie pulled tighter around Bucky’s neck, constricting, and together with Steve’s mouth covering his, the lack of oxygen made him light headed, the plug vibrating harder again, and Bucky was weightless, drifting - completely in Steve's care. Nothing else mattered in the world except for them in that moment.

Steve let go after a few seconds, the pressure around Bucky’s neck lessening and he came back into himself, ass hitting the chair with a thump as he fell back, and he jolted as the toy shook him from the inside. Bucky was so very hard and hungry, but not for the food before him. He let his eyes slide to Steve, begging for more without words, and Steve sat back smirking. Knowing exactly what was going on in Bucky’s mind.

Then it hit him, hit him hard and fast - this was his,  _ Steve _ was his. This impossibly staggering and formidable man before him was all Bucky’s. It was confirmed, he could be taken care of, have all of his desires met, and not only met - but exceeded in ways he still couldn’t comprehend. Bucky had so much to learn and he wanted it all at Steve’s large and capable hands.

“We still need to talk things through though.”

Bucky came back into the conversation with a lurch.

“Talk?” He couldn’t help but  _ not _ like the sound of that.

“Yes, Buck, talk. I don’t want you to ever think again that I wouldn’t want to comfort you and give you the after care you need, deserve. I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday, trying to show you with actions that I was there, ready and waiting.”

Steve paused, gathering his thoughts and Bucky waited, knowing now that Steve  _ had  _ done all that, hindsight making it so clear, the sheets, his cleaned body, the damn foam roller and all the food and company even though touch wasn’t involved. Bucky just didn’t see it for what it was, and felt a little foolish for brushing Steve off as not interested.

“I should have made sure you knew what was going on - but I was worried that I’d… you know what? We’ll talk about this later. Right now I need you to be good and sit there, and not move from your chair while you eat your food.”

Bucky wanted to protest, went to say as much, complain that he wasn’t hungry, to demand Steve take him home and take care of him immediately, never to leave his side again.

“Buck - are you even listening? We’ve talked about this.”

And then it was on, the voice, the frown, the game, and Bucky was in heaven as he looked up through his lashes and said, “Yes, Sir.”

Steve stilled for the barest second, almost undetectable, before smirking, indicating towards Bucky’s plate that he needed to start eating. So Bucky did as he was told. Gladly.

Dinner though, turned out to be a long drawn out affair, and Bucky  _ knew _ Steve was making him wait, making him sweat in his seat, using the plug intermittently, enough to make him writhe, squirm and moan on the spot, but never push until there was no return. Bucky was thankful Steve could read him so well, knowing Bucky didn’t want to make a mess of himself or his suit in public.

After the dessert plates had been removed, Steve requested a cognac and brandy truffles, of which Bucky declined, because all he wanted to do was leave, then scowled when Steve asked the waiter for a black coffee. Bucky tried his best not to pout, aware he was being tested and he managed to be good, wriggling only the bare minimum, making small noises occasionally, but never outwardly complained, continuing the small talk Steve seemed intent on having. All while Steve moved at his own steady pace, ignoring the pleading looks he was receiving.

Bucky could tell the bastard enjoyed every second.

But so did he.

Finally, as Bucky gripped the edges of his seat white knuckled, the plug exploding deep inside of him as the waiter was midway through clearing their table, Bucky unable to say anything or look up, knowing his pleasure was clear as day, Steve glanced over.

“Are you ready to go home sweetheart?”

Bucky only had enough state of mind to nod yes.

Steve’s gaze darkened with filthy promises as he placed his credit card down to pay.

Bucky gulped and clenched around the plug.

He was more than ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh - thank you so much for reading, and I know it was a slight change in pace but these boys would not let me move on until they'd had this interlude of thoughts - rest assured - the next two chapters... Bucky is very well looked after - now knowing exactly the direction they are headed and are both on the same page ;)
> 
> (And try not to be annoyed at Steve for his lack of touch the next day - he specialises in one-night only and just floundered the next day and did his best - these boys are just so clueless sometimes ❤️)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Well the boys are back and better than ever - I mean communication is where it is all at - and now they are on the same page, well, I think they might just be okay!
> 
> Thanks for the support on the last chapter as well, I'm so glad you were all on board for a little interlude of plot - but now we are back with your regularily scheduled horny Bucky craziness!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me - and enjoy these boys taking the next step! :)

The moment they walked into the apartment, Bucky went limp, Steve catching him with a chuckle, aware that by turning the vibrations up slow and intense as they walked the half hour home, it would render Bucky exhausted. By the time Steve leaned him upright against the wall, Bucky was panting, gasping for more, ready to feel, to touch, to experience Steve’s enormous dick again - and he was quivering in place, waiting for direction, any directions at all. Knowing now without a doubt that Steve would have him, take care of him.

The bubble that grew in his chest at this knowledge was enormous, almost incomprehensible.

Steve took his time though, heading for the fridge, pouring them both a large glass of water and instructed Bucky to drink it all. Bucky was ready to scream. Steve smiled into his glass knowingly, and Bucky was helpless to do anything  _ but _ obey - it was what he wanted after all, to have his choices all but taken away. And he knew once Steve started their play in earnest, that he’d be transported to another plane of existence, forgetting all of his frustrations.

Steve grasped the empty glass from Bucky’s trembling hand, then turned to wash and dry them slowly, Bucky’s eyes following every movement, attempting to keep his impatient whine inside. He didn’t succeed nearly well enough.

Steve shook his head when he turned, eyes hard, voice holding no room for argument, “I want you naked on your bed, on knees and elbows facing towards the end, plug taken out, ready for me.” Steve looked at Bucky, who stared back, then sighed, “What are you waiting for?”

Bucky did  _ not _ need to be told twice, practically sprinting to his room, legs shaky as he disrobed, pulling the plug carefully out of his thrumming body, his suit now a rumpled mess in the corner - he’d pick it up tomorrow - then assumed his position on the bed, head down between his elbows. As he waited, he heard Steve walking around the apartment, cupboard doors opening and closing, water turned on and off, and Bucky tapped his foot impatiently. What in the hell was Steve doing? Didn’t he realise Bucky was waiting desperately?

Oh - of course Steve did.

And it was the understanding that it was all part of the game, the part Steve enjoyed the most, that made Bucky flush. He truly was the luckiest man on the planet, no matter how frustrated he got.

A few minutes later, blood pumping thick and fast enough to make him jittery, Bucky couldn’t help but look up and around, too impatient to check if his room was in a passable state earlier, and found himself looking directly into his mirror, into his wide blown eyes, and for a split second thought about getting up to move it. But he didn’t want to be caught out of position when Steve entered, and it had been, what? Five or ten minutes already? Steve could come in at any time, then Bucky realised by Steve’s order to face the end of his bed, he’d known the mirror hadn’t been moved. 

Bucky’s heart started to beat faster when he looked over his stance, head low to the bed, eyes glassy as they followed the curve of his spine all the way to his ass pointed at the ceiling, presenting. His thick thighs were spread open and he looked so debauched, so ready to be fucked hard, he sucked in a sharp breath. 

Steve was going to make him watch. Again.

And as Bucky waited, anticipation escalating with each beat of his heart, his dick filled, twitching, crying out for attention, hardening until it was sore, throbbing between his legs. He had to commend Steve and his ability to hold off on entering the room. It was doing exactly what it was meant to. The longer Bucky sat watching his reflection, the more his eagerness grew, the more he wanted it, the more he imagined what might be about to happen. Bucky closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, steady his breathing -  _ wait _ .

A warm hand positioned itself on his lower back, and Bucky jolted into consciousness - Steve had arrived. 

Bucky hadn’t heard him enter the room, and when he looked up into the mirror at their reflection, he saw that Steve was wearing those low slung grey pants again, sans top, and Bucky’s hungry gaze took in his broad chest; smooth, muscular and so extremely mouthwatering. He couldn’t wait until the day Steve allowed him free reign on his body -  _ if _ he was given the chance. The permission.

Steve’s palm started a slow and steady pace of smoothing across his skin, Bucky relaxing into it straight away, humming happily when a second hand touched him, rubbing up to his shoulders in small circles. The rhythm constant, up and down, comforting, soothing the nerves and shakiness that threatened to make Bucky’s body convulse uncontrollably. He  _ wanted _ so much, his skin felt too tight, pulled taut and stretched thin over his bones. 

And although Bucky felt as if his insides were about to be turned upside down if he didn’t get what he needed in the next three seconds, the palms continued their tracks, Steve possessing a countenance that calmed him at the same time as it set him on fire. The juxtaposition stole his last sane thought.

On one of Steve’s wide and controlled upstrokes, long fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, tugging hard until his head snapped back, the angle awkward, stretching his neck up and out, and the burn in his collarbone as the skin adjusted, prickled deliciously. Steve, still standing, bent down from the side of the bed and pushed his tongue deeply into Bucky’s open mouth until Bucky couldn’t breathe.

It was fucking perfect.

“Alright there, Buck?” Steve husked as he pulled away, eyes dark and threatening, holding a deep promise, a promise that emptied Bucky’s lungs.

“Peachy,” he replied breathlessly.

Steve grinned wolfishly before a large cupped palm smacked Bucky’s ass.  _ Hard. _

“Yes, it most certainly is.”

Bucky tried to duck his head, to hide his absolutely devastating reaction to the strike, but Steve’s hand tightened in his hair, not allowing him to move an inch.

“Interesting…” Steve mused, eyes boring into Bucky’s and he knew nothing was hidden, he was raw, open wide. At Steve’s absolute mercy. “This is definitely on the list of things to discuss.”

“List...?” Bucky squeezed out, the word almost lost in his gasp as a palm eased over the sore area, cheek still stinging deliciously, the imprint of Steve's harsh touch lingering. Burned into his psyche for the rest of his life.

“Oh yes. We’re going to have a  _ long _ chat about everything you desire Buck. I’m going to look after you so well, give you everything you ever wanted, and maybe, just maybe some things you don’t even  _ know _ you want yet.”

An animalistic noise was torn from Bucky, and the throaty chuckle Steve gave as he stared down at Bucky, hand gripping his hair even tighter, made his dick pulse, knowing a large glob of precome escaped at the words.  _ Oh fuck _ .

“I’m never going to get sick of telling you how perfect you are for me, Buck.  _ Never. _ ”

Bucky hummed happily at the words, the emphatic way Steve stated it like fact. That there were no questions about it, no queries, no hesitation. His neck stretched further up at an angle, Steve’s grip unyielding, not letting go - and Bucky loved every second of it, the sensation of not being able to move, not having a say in how his body was placed. As if he no longer had the choice, his free will snatched away. Bucky had eagerly placed himself in position, not even thinking of the implications of such an exposed stance, and what it might make Steve do.

Then as one hand held Bucky’s head back, the other traced soft lines over his spine, down the length of it, all the way to his crack and through the cleft of his ass until a thick finger pushed directly into his heat, pressing against the loosened rim. 

Bucky keened, let out a half pained, half delirious moan at having Steve’s fingers playing right there, right in that sensitive, quivering spot - and Steve didn’t stop, running his finger around the still slick hole, opening him more. 

“Oh... you’re so messy here, Buck. You didn’t clean up at  _ all _ did you? You just ran in here and like the eager little thing you are, didn’t  _ think _ , just jumped up on your bed like a horny adult that can’t follow simple instructions.”

Bucky let out a small whimper at the chastising tone, “I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” he rasped. And Steve’s hand in his hair gave him the tiniest amount of leeway, Bucky swallowed, the skin on his neck now loose, not taut. He missed the burn.

“Well, how am I supposed to eat you out when you’re full of sticky mess - mess that’s  _ not _ mine.”

A punched out gasp left Bucky’s body at the words. His stomach bunching up in knots of disbelief.

Steve was going to… he was  _ wanting _ to eat Bucky, to taste him, to press his tongue into his body, and the knots of anticipation dissolved as his stomach wavered, knees giving way even though they were already bent and positioned safely on the bed - but his ass -  _ that _ rose into the air in anticipation as Steve’s finger reached deeper.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispered, and Steve tugged his hair back roughly again, making Bucky gasp, and leant down over him, fingers never leaving his hole to once more nip at Bucky’s lips. His reach was phenomenal.

“I’ll let it go this time - you’re just learning after all.” And how Steve made that sound so sweet, yet so degrading at the same time, he didn’t know - and he loved it. “But next time - I expect obedience and order when I ask you to do something.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose sharply as Steve kissed him deeply again, fingers dancing around his rim, pushing in, teasing with two fingers and Bucky knew he would shave every hair on his body and wear glitter each day of his life if it meant having Steve’s full attention.

“What was that?”

Realising that he’d not answered yet, couldn’t really, as Steve’s tongue filled his mouth again; he tried to answer around the deep kiss, Steve smirking like an ass, knowing what he was doing, how he was hampering Bucky’s answer, until he finally pulled back an inch, Bucky managing to look up through his lashes to catch Steve’s gaze.

“I’ll be good from now on.”

“I know you will.” Steve responded, matter of fact, as if there was no question on Bucky’s obedience. And suddenly Bucky’s hair was released, the burn in his shoulders and neck dissipating as he let his head drop back down towards the bed. “Your eyes are not to leave that mirror, baby. You hear me?”

Bucky nodded, rasping that ‘yes, he’d watch’, and when his eyes landed on their reflections, he had a wild thought that he should get rid of his mirror, to lessen the agony of watching Steve take him apart, knowing he never would. That mirror would be with them until their dying breaths.

He watched intently as Steve moved towards the other end of the bed, climbing on to the softness, dipping the mattress slightly with his weight, and Bucky saw Steve was still wearing his grey pants - he’d not removed them. A momentary pang filled Bucky that he wasn’t about to be pounded into immediately, shoved full of Steve’s gorgeously wide dick, but then he felt a softness rubbing over his hole, a slight dampness. Trying to see over the curve of his spine, Bucky caught a glimpse of a cloth, right before Steve pushed a damp edge into his body.

“Fuck…” Bucky ground out at the sensation of the fabric inside his hole.

“Hush,” Steve demanded, and Bucky shut his mouth. Loving the way Steve murmured ‘good’ as he continued to wipe him down, clean him up, getting ready for -

The first swipe of Steve’s tongue was indescribable. It was firm and bold, one straight lick from his aching balls to his lower back, Steve’s tongue flat and bumpy. Bucky bit his lip painfully, aware that he’d been told to hush, to be quiet. But  _ Christ _ \- it was hard.

“Oh sweetheart, you taste nice, so soft and pliant under my tongue, like your hole knows who I am, how I’m going to treat it. I’m going to fucking  _ love  _ eating this ass.”

Steve leant back down as his words swirled in Bucky’s brain, playing over and over, making him giddy, and Bucky watched Steve in the mirror, seeing Steve’s eyes close as he dove back in, the sensation of his clever mouth over his hole, licking in just a little, before pressing around the rim, stretching him with his impossibly large tongue.  _ All  _ of Steve was impossibly large, Bucky was finding out.

Telltale tears sprung up already, and this time it was not from pain or pleasure, but from holding his voice inside, too scared to pant or moan or let anything out in case Steve stopped what he was doing, told him off,  _ denied _ him pleasure.

As his thoughts turned over, prickles of arousal running through his body, Steve leant back away from Bucky’s ass. And Bucky held in his questioning moan of loss.

“You can make your pretty noises now. I’ll admit, I like silence too, but with you - I want to hear you moan, I like hearing how I can make you scream. And Bucky?” Bucky made a noise that he’d heard the question, “Your hole, this absolutely delectable piece of you is mine now. You hear that? My tongue, my fingers, my cock only - it belongs to me. Okay?”

Bucky was suckerpunched, Steve hitting his biggest kink - of being owned. “Yes, fuck yes, it’s yours, no one elses, only you. All yours - always.”

“Good,” Steve responded in his no nonsense voice that drove Bucky insane. “Now look up.”

Doing as he was told, Bucky lifted his eyes to the mirror, finding Steve’s already boring into his, holding him captive. Bucky didn’t think he’d be able to look away even if he tried - he was caught, ensnared in the naughty and commanding glint in Steve’s blue eyes.

Steve licked his lips, and Bucky whimpered when Steve’s hands pulled his cheeks apart, making him writhe, his hole stretching under the pressure until he felt he was going to split in two. But he never lost eye contact, and watched fascinated, inhaling so hard through his nose it flared, the scent of sex heavy in the air as Steve leant foward, eyes never leaving Bucky and licked into him as deep as he could, pulling Bucky’s ass up towards his face more so that he could stare down the length of Bucky’s spine all while maintaning the stregth of their gaze.

It shouldn't have been so hot, but god, it was the hottest thing Bucky had ever seen.

Steve’s tongue snaked in as far as it could, wriggling, pushing and running up over the walls of Bucky’s ass, licking as deep as he could reach, and Bucky felt everything, but he also  _ witnessed _ his downfall, his ripping at the seams. He watched Steve’s eyes, so pleased and happy to be tongue deep in Bucky - and Bucky, well he was just about dead, seeing Steve squishing his face between his plump cheeks, slurping loudly, obscenely, feeling saliva slide down his ass crack, over his balls, pooling on the bed below them.

Gasping in lungfuls of air, moaning so loud it was deafening, Bucky knew his body was made to be tongue fucked by Steve Rogers, and he was so close, so close to losing himself, but not quite getting there, and it was the sweetest torture. Bucky was already so in love with Steve for being able to bring him this, this feeling of letting go, of not being in control of his pleasure. It was exactly what he needed.

As Steve pushed his soft and wriggling tongue further into his body, blue eyes dark and not letting Bucky’s out of their fierce grip, Bucky realised what word he’d let slip into his thoughts. Something he’d known for too long but hadn’t wanted to voice.

He  _ loved _ Steve.

Steve growled at Bucky’s sudden inattentiveness, his need to have all of Bucky’s attention apparent in the way his fingers tightened painfully on Bucky's flesh and Bucky fluttered his eyes shut before snapping them back open, remembering his promise to not look away. The vibration on his rim as Steve growled into him made Bucky throw his head back more, trying to mimic the burn from earlier in the base of his neck, all while not allowing his gaze to drop. God he loved this man.

And the way Steve faltered for the barest second had Bucky panicking - had he let the words slip out unbidden? Yet Steve didn’t call him out, say anything, he just continued to munch and lick away, like Bucky tasted better than the decadent meal they’d shared earlier - the  _ expensive _ meal.

“Taste so good baby, you taste like mine.”

Bucky whimpered for the four hundredth time in a minute at the tone and the way Steve’s grip tightened once more on his cheeks, squeezing over the exact place where his hand had smacked earlier. Bucky started to pant heavier, feeling pulled in all directions, Steve holding him open and licking into him all while Bucky watched the whole thing in slow motion, his brain turning to molasses as Steve shuffled forward to move his body higher, letting go of Bucky’s cheeks to bury his mouth directly into the crack, a huge arm snaking under Bucky’s stomach, almost brushing against his dick, and Bucky wriggled, trying to get touch there, stimulation there, knowing that Steve would deny him - but playing the game all the same. 

Then suddenly he was  _ lifted _ off the bed, and the world tilted as Steve’s strength held him up, Bucky’s elbows digging into the softness of the bed, the only thing tethering him to solid ground. Steve’s arm pushed him upwards, into his clever mouth, Steve using his other hand to splay his cheeks open, to allow him the ability to push in further, and Bucky’s fingers gripped the comforter tighter, the fabric feeling foreign under his shaking and ungainly fingers that no longer worked, were separate from the rest of him. He couldn’t think properly, was only left with the capacity to feel completely overwhelmed.

“Do you like me eating you?” Steve asked as he pulled back, licking gently around the tender and sensitive skin. “Like watching me enjoy myself?”

Bucky nodded.

“Words.” Steve ordered with a pinch to the skin next to his balls and Bucky called out squirming, adoring the pain it caused, followed immediately by the heat of his body rushing blood to the area.

“Yes... oh Christ… when you do that swirl thing… oh fuck.” Bucky whispered brokenly. Unable to say anything else coherently. 

“That’s good, baby, because I think I could eat you out all day. Your hole is beautiful, feels so nice wrapped around my tongue, pulling me in deeper. I don’t think any part of me doesn't love being buried in your tightness.” Steve paused to lick a stripe over him roughly again, pressing in. “I think I might just live here for the rest of my days.”

And that was what killed Bucky, tipped him over the edge so his heart brimmed with love - the solid reassurance that Steve wanted him, the thought that Steve would always be there for him, take care of him, want to  _ be _ with him, made the last of Bucky’s uncertainty about them disappear.

“Yes… please, always - just you Stevie.”

“God…” Steve licked so far inside of him at his words, his hand no longer holding Bucky open, Bucky crying out as Steve’s tongue suddenly left his hole, open and wet, the cool air in the room making it tingle. “I fucking love that nickname.” 

And then Bucky found he was unable to hold Steve’s gaze, as Steve yanked him higher again, face disappearing beyond the curve of Bucky’s ass as his tongue trailed down over his balls until he licked over the length of Bucky’s dick, and Bucky jolted harshly in Steve’s grip at the sensation. If Bucky thought Steve’s tongue was clever before, he was not prepared for the heat, the care of having it on his dick, licking and suckling,  _ nuzzling  _ him.

Bucky’s brain went off line as he trembled in Steve’s grip, elbows barely holding up his weight, and yet he never looked away from the mirror, seeing the top of Steve's head as he moved, as he  _ sucked _ on the base of his cock. he felt more and more out of control, his mind starting to haze, as he tried to stave off his orgasm, he was too out of control to try and hold on for long.

“Steve… I… oh my god… Steve!” 

And then Steve somehow jerked Bucky impossibly higher, taking all of Bucky’s dick into the warm inviting heat of his mouth to suckle on the tip, before sliding the length down his throat. Bucky yelled, cried out loud enough the neighbours might come past, knock on the door to see who was being murdered.

Bucky was almost completely off the bed, dangling in the air as Steve took him, possessed him, controlled everything. And Bucky could only hang on, the comforter pulling in his grip as his wild and rapidly blinking eyes darted everywhere over the mirror as Steve swallowed around him.

“I can’t… Steve... I can’t hold on.”

Steve popped off him and a rush of adrenaline hit Bucky’s gut as the stimulation on his dick halted.

“I think you can. And you will."

He then licked across Bucky's balls, the warning in his voice clear as he took one soft mound of flesh into his mouth, sucking, and Bucky held on to any sane thought left in his mind as he tried to stop himself coming everwhere. Bucky fucking loved having his balls touched, played with, and it was apparent Steve had picked up on that.

“Hmmm,” Steve hummed, “You really like this, don’t you, sweet thing?”

Steve stopped, letting Bucky’s body down gently onto the bed and Bucky, tears prickling in his eyes at holding every feeling, every emotion inside, sighed deeply.

“Look at you, just look at yourself. You’re so fucking good. The best, and I'm not  _ ever _ letting you go again.”

Bucky inhaled shakily, nodded his head almost uncontrollably, wanting Steve always, needing his dream to become a reality, that everything happening would be his each and every day from that moment onwards.

“Brace yourself.”

Not understanding Steve’s words at first, Bucky let out a small yelp when the room spun quickly, completely upending him, and dizzy, he was suddenly staring up at the roof; Steve pressing himself between Bucky’s splayed legs, now hovering, looking down at him.

Steve’s hand pressed against Bucky’s sternum, having to be able to feel the hummingbird like beats of his heart as he rubbed up and down Bucky’s body, over his arms, helping the blood flow back into his extremities and Bucky, languid and safe - lay prone, stretched out. Delirious.

“Stay right there and don’t move, I’ll be right back.” Steve said with a lingering touch to Bucky’s thigh as he got up, Bucky nodded that he'd heard, his voice crackling when he tried to say ‘okay’.

Steve jumped off the bed with energy Bucky couldn’t fathom in that moment and a second later Bucky heard him in the bathroom, and he used those few seconds of reprieve to catch his breath, to try and come back down from the mountain in the clouds so high he couldn’t inhale a lungful of air without his chest tightening. He did as he was told, unable to do more than lay there with his hard dick weeping against his stomach, a hole that quivered from being licked so thoroughly, and the wetness still lingering over the skin of his balls. It was like he’d been branded, had Steve’s name plastered all over his body - could feel his signature owning him. 

_ Jesus _ , Bucky was in trouble - the best kind of trouble though. 

Steve was back in no time, and as Bucky swung his gaze to the side to watch him stride in, he swallowed the last vestiges of his control, said goodbye to his free will - as Steve was naked, his thick, hard cock bobbing with each step and Bucky couldn’t help lick his lips, hoping for another taste.

“You’re…” Steve stopped, gazing at Bucky with heat and desire that consumed his face, Bucky wondering if it was a trick of the light, still unbelieving that he could make Steve stop in his tracks by just laying naked before him. “Do you want to taste?”

The ‘yes’ Bucky rasped out, was desperate and pleading.

“Alright sweetness, I’ll let you taste, fill your mouth so full you’ll forget how to breathe, but not tonight,” Steve ignored Bucky’s whine, “Tonight is about you, I want you to feel good,  _ need _ to make it up to you.”

“But…” Bucky started to plead, mouth open, ready and wanting Steve’s fatness resting on his tongue. Steve took those two remaining steps, coming over to lean down and kiss Bucky’s mouth so sweetly, and the taste of peppermint filled his mouth - bursting over his taste buds.

Then Steve’s mouth was gone, Bucky opening his eyes to nothing as the bed dipped, Steve kneeling between Bucky’s legs. Bucky trembled, knowing he was about to be prepared to take Steve’s huge length, be pulled apart, be slid into with a thrust so deep he’d forget his name.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Bucky was shoved backwards until his head lacked support, the bed suddenly no longer underneath him and he cried out in surprise as Steve stopped his backwards trajectory almost as soon as he started it.

“Baby, don’t hold your neck up, you’ll hurt yourself. Let it hang down, I’ve got you.”

Bucky couldn’t do anything but trust Steve, would always trust Steve, so he relaxed straight away, letting his head fall backwards so it dangled down over the edge of the bed. And the view - oh Christ - the  _ view _ .

In the mirror, he could see Steve’s large body dominating him as he leant forward to slide his hands up and over Bucky’s body, until he reached his nipples, pinching hard, tweaking them both just once. Bucky yelled in pleasure, tingling spreading from his chest down to his dick that twitched and he tried to squirm, but he couldn’t move - Steve had him locked down. 

Before Bucky could work out his next move, Steve let go and his mouth was circling around Bucky’s dick, licking and sucking. Bucky moaned raw and deep, like ocean waves crashing against a wall of rock. It sounded nothing like him at all.

Steve made himself at home, holding Bucky’s legs open, sucking him down as one hand played with his balls. Bucky gasped as Steve rolled them in his fingers, soothing, rubbing, cupping them tenderly and Bucky was delirious, doing arithmetic in his brain to try and  _ not _ think about the sensations coursing through his body as Steve lathed his dick while giving his usually neglected balls attention.

Steve’s hand slipped lower and Bucky felt a dry finger against his rim and he tensed, waiting for the sharp jab of discomfort that would mean Steve had started to push in dry.

“Trust me.” Steve husked as he popped off Bucky's dick, “I’m not going to hurt you. Not unless you  _ ask _ for it.”

Reeling, Bucky immediately relaxed, knowing Steve wouldn’t cause him pain on purpose, that he knew what Bucky could take, but it was still reassuring to hear it. Steve’s mouth fell onto his dick again and fine vibrations ran through Bucky’s body, starting in his shoulders that hung on the precipice of the bed, and ending in his toes curled into the comforter. Bucky gasped and cried out as Steve's finger disappeared to come back slick and wet, not having realised lube was nearby.

And of  _ course _ Steve was prepared, was always prepared, and it suddenly dawned on him that Steve was always telling Bucky how good  _ he _ was, how perfect, but in actual fact Steve was all of those things in return. He made Bucky float, feel like his true self, that he no longer had to hide, that he could be Bucky Barnes completely - with no apologies. He could be his truth.

And he hoped Steve knew he could be that in return. That Steve didn't have to hold back and be anyone else other than who  _ he _ was.

As Bucky’s head started to spin from being upside down, Steve’s fingers breached his hole, filling him up with no apologies. Bucky grunted at the slick intrusion, relaxing into it immediately.

“Oh god, I love you filling me up.”

“I can tell,” Steve murmured from around his dick, licking up the side to the tip before sucking down the whole length in one go. 

Bucky let the sensations ride him as Steve pumped fingers in and out, a third finger joining soon after and Bucky spread his legs wider, hearing Steve’s pleased hum,  _ feeling _ the rumble around him. And Bucky wasn’t sure if it was his heightened senses or the fact his brain was hazy on the edges, but he knew in his entire life he’d never received attention like this, had never been priority number one, and it was an earth shattering realisation that he’d somehow found it. Had discovered the one person who could give it.

“Steve… Stevie!” Bucky cried out as a fourth finger pushed in, the burn as familiar as it was foreign, knowing that Steve was almost ready, that he was going to push his tremendous girth into Bucky and fuck him until he was raw, until he was a whimpering mess. Bucky needed it, needed Steve to stop sucking him, because if he didn’t, he was going to come and  _ soon _ . Having Steve’s lips around him with nimble fingers deep inside was making Bucky crazy, and his stomach trembled, quivering with an impending orgasm.

“I’m ready... please…”

Steve tutted, “I’ll be the judge of that. It’s not your decision now is it?”

Bucky swallowed hard, difficult in his position, “ I... no… no it’s not.”

“Good, you need to learn your place Buck.” 

And god it was humilating, but also so very fucking hot, and Bucky felt his dick twitch at Steve’s words, knowing Steve would have felt it, knew that Bucky liked it. Not that Bucky was into full degradation and humiliation, but a little bit went a long way.

He didn’t know how long he was at Steve’s mercy, holding it all inside, tears running up his face into his hairline as he watched the top of Steve’s head taking him to the edge over and over again, knowing just when to pull back, only to double down a moment later.

Suddenly Steve released the stranglehold on his dick, mouth and fingers gone, and Bucky instinctually started to wriggle backwards.

“Did I tell you to move?”

Bucky stilled instantly, brain fogging at the order and his response to be good, to stay motionless for Steve. Hearing the telltale crinkle of a wrapper, his heart started to burst out of his chest, and Bucky’s eyes fell to the reflection of his own neck, seeing the visible thump in it, knowing what was about to occur; clenching at the idea of being speared open, split in two, of having Steve inside - caring for him in the way only  _ he _ knew how. Somehow giving Bucky everything he desired with each and every deep stroke.

And then Steve was there, nudging.

“Ready?” Steve asked, but Bucky had no time to answer as Steve pushed right past that ring of resistance, halting for a second, before pulling out the smallest amount, making Bucky growl at the loss of pressure. And then he was sliding back in, all in one long swift motion, the slickness of the lube paving the way. 

Steve had prepared him well, so there was only the smallest amount of press back, the stretch still extraordinary, and Bucky once again grappled for the sheet, not finding it straight away as a large hand had captured his instead. Steve’s fingers tangled with Bucky’s to hold him tight, as his dick pushed in until he could go no further, Bucky thankful for the grounding touch.

“Fuck, sweetheart - you are so tight around me, so good, so damn fucking sensational.”

Bucky whined, breathing in sharply, the air appearing thinner as his head dropped back further, gasping at the fullness and the fact Steve held his hand so tenderly as he sat sheathed, waiting, always being so considerate even if his demeanour spoke otherwise.

“Mo… move…” Bucky breathed out, the whisper only a hush in the quiet room, almost lost. “Please…”

“When I’m ready,” Steve said simply, leaning over Bucky, kissing along his arched chest, pushed up from the angle he was lying in. And Steve nipped and ran his tongue across Bucky’s hardened nipples, Bucky knowing that the way Steve talked to him, the way he made him feel each time he demanded something from him, or  _ of _ him, might just mean his death.

“I’m going to mark you up here too. Want to see myself over all of you - want you to know who you  _ belong _ to.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky whimpered, just as Steve started to suck and bite under his left pectoral, and Bucky whited out, lost time as Steve made his brand on him,  _ claiming _ him, and it was intense, it was sexy, Steve not moving a muscle inside of him the whole time; his cock fat and wide, pulsing every so often as Steve moved above him.

Just as Bucky was close to the edge, ready to spill everywhere, Steve sat up, Bucky watching his reflection with bleary eyes, only to see Steve looking proudly down at his handiwork. Suddenly Steve’s eyes snapped up to catch Bucky staring, and he very deliberately pulled out of Bucky’s body, dragging his cock slow and steady. Bucky’s mouth hung open at the sheer vitality Steve exuded as he slammed back in, Bucky’s entire body jolting at the movement.

Then Steve fucked him, hard, fast and brutal. Bucky tried to watch, but couldn’t. The snapping of Steve’s hips, rough and consuming, paired with his limp and unsupported head moving at such a rate - he couldn’t focus. So he focussed on the feelings welling up in his system instead, trying to keep them at bay as Steve pounded into his flesh, taking him over and over, fucking him like he was a kept man, a toy, a doll to be used for pleasure, one that you’d put into the closet afterwards and yank out on special occasions just to fill up again. Bucky keened over the imagery of Steve using him like that, acting like Bucky was nothing but a hole. And in the midst of everything, Bucky’s brain landed on the list they were to make, knowing he had a few things he wanted to discuss. Things he was only just admitting to himself that he wanted.

Bucky was torn from his fantasies when Steve’s hand wrapped around his dick and he started to tug roughly, hand slicked up with lube and the slick feeling, the tunnel of Steve’s huge fist as he thrust in time, made Bucky jerk upwards as much as he was able.

“Oh no… oh… shit… I…”

“Hold for one minute, Buck - I’m not ready yet. I’m enjoying myself too much.”

The husked demand slammed straight in the middle of Bucky’s solar plexus. Steve wasn’t ready for Bucky to come yet, was saying  _ no - _ and fuck… Bucky didn’t know if he could be good. He desperately needed to be though. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Steve.

But Steve didn’t relent to help Bucky hold off his orgasm,  _ no _ , Steve pushed into him rougher and deeper, hand vice-like on Bucky’s cock as he pumped the very thoughts and life from Bucky. And Bucky wasn't in the room, he was looking down at them from a great height, having to separate brain and sensation else he come too soon.

Steve’s hand left his dick, trailing over his balls, and Bucky screamed out when Steve’s finger started to rub around his rim, stretched so tight. He couldn’t push in  _ beside _ his huge dick? Bucky would split open - wouldn’t he?

“You can come now,” Steve finally ordered at the same time as his finger pushed in and Bucky lost it, sobbing out as his dick spurted across his chest, emptying everything he had, his pent up emotions, his worry, his fear, his excitement. The anticipation all ebbed from his body, one gushing pump at a time.

But Steve didn’t give him a reprieve, instead he went into a frenzy, fucking him like it was the last act he’d ever perform, calling out how amazing Bucky was, how he was never leaving, was going to look after him always.

And that was when Steve pulled Bucky back up onto the bed fully, so his head came level with the rest of his poor sated body, and Steve fell over him, forearms either side of Bucky’s head, caging him in. Steve kissed him, kissed like Bucky was supplying him oxygen and pumped furiously into his body, snapping his hips, the shudder and out of control movements at odds with his usual confidence. Bucky felt tiny, consumed by Steve - wrapped in his sweaty unmistakable scent, and although he was ready to pass out in exhaustion, Bucky held on long enough to experience Steve tremble and pause as he came, tongue deep in Bucky’s mouth, body quivering over his, with Bucky spreadeagled on the bed, completely unable to move.

He was in heaven, he was where he was supposed to be, and as Steve leant back, eyes glazed and full of wonder, Bucky leant up to kiss the corner of his mouth, whispering, “Mine.”

Steve’s grin was blinding.

  
  


Bucky awoke slowly, groggily and warm all over. Enjoying the sensation of being in his bed, comfortable and sore, the aches and pains well worth the night he’d just experienced. 

He opened his eyes with a flutter to a wall of muscle, muscle that belonged to Steve’s expansive chest, finding his nose pressed up against Steve’s sternum and Bucky let go of his last residual slither of fear. 

Steve was there, arms wrapped tightly around him, and Bucky was enveloped in his scent and inhaled deeply, loving the spicy yet masculine smell that enimated from Steve after a night of fucking.

Of fucking Bucky.

“Morning sleepy,” a deep grumble erupted from the chest before him.

Bucky tilted his face up to see Steve craning his head down, catching Bucky’s eyes, and the warmth and acceptance reflecting out of them stole the beat of his heart from his chest.

Steve in the morning, sleepy, eyes soft, was a sight to behold - and it was all Bucky’s.

“Morning,” he replied with a yawn that made Steve chuckle, and then Steve’s hand started to rub over Bucky’s back, soft and gliding, just a nice up and down over the sore muscles of his neck, kneading slightly, easing the aches from the night before, where his head had been at an odd angle. Bucky hummed into the movement, enjoying being completely wrapped up in Steve. He pressed a kiss to the underside of Steve’s chin before snuggling back into his chest, burrowing deeply, not ever wanting to leave, certain now that he didn’t have to. This was his. 

This was now Bucky’s.

He sucked in a shuddering breath at the implications of it all, and Steve’s hand faltered in its ministrations.

“Whats up, are you okay? Did you need something, anything at all? There’s water next to the bed, or I can make toast, give you a massage, a shower-”

“Steve!” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to his chest, loving how hard the muscle was under his lips. Christ, he wanted to explore. “I’m ok, promise. I don’t need anything more than what I already have right now in my arms.”

If Bucky wasn’t pressed against Steve’s chest, he would have missed the movement, the slight hitch in Steve’s breathing, the tremor that went through to his stomach, making it shiver for less than a second. And Bucky now knew he wasn't the only one in this new relationship that was feeling a little vulnerable and extremely hopeful.

A kiss to the crown of his head came next and Bucky wriggled happily into it, tilting his head up to kiss Steve’s lips chastly, their stale breath mingling for a second before Bucky winced.

“I need to brush my teeth, but I don’t want to move.”

Steve grinned, “S’ok sweetheart, we can make do.” And then he began to leave soft presses of his lips over Bucky’s forehead, temple, down his cheeks, along his jaw to his ear - whispering harshly into it, “But if I wanted to kiss you on your perfect mouth - I would. And I wouldn’t give a damn about your objections. You’re mine now Buck.”

Bucky writhed and moaned instantly. Steve’s possessiveness at a different level that morning, and Bucky was there for it, would line up, hands outstretched needing more, never sick of the attention - he was a whore for Steve Rogers and he fucking loved it.

“Yours,” Bucky breathed, “Anything you want, whatever you want to take,  _ own _ , it’s yours. I’m yours.”

Steve’s kisses deepened on his neck and Bucky leant up into them, showing more skin, giving Steve free reign - knowing he’d always present Steve every allowance when it came to his body. He’d never deny Steve anything.

“Baby, you are  _ so _ right for me, made for me. I’ve never…” Steve trailed off as he leant back, hands still smoothing all over Bucky's body, no longer frantic, but steady and paced, showing he was there and not leaving. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of Buck - you need to know that.”

Bucky hissed in a breath, surprised that Steve was emoting so easily.

“I'm just… I’m getting used to this, can you be patient?” Steve paused, “I want us, I want  _ you _ , and I want to care for you - but if I slip up, you need to tell me.” Steve inhaled, Bucky’s chest pulsed at the vulnerability in Steve’s voice, knowing how hard it must be for Steve to say all of this. “I’m not the perfect -”

“Either am I,” Bucky interrupted. Knowing at some point they needed to talk about things,  _ them _ , what they wanted. But not then, right then Bucky wanted to lay languid in his bed, with Steve wrapped around him, the man he loved, who’d captured his imagination, heart and soul with two nights together, so intense and brilliant, it had effectively ruined Bucky for all others.

Steve smiled down at him, clearly sensing something different within Bucky, a crook to his brow appeared and Bucky buried his head into Steve’s chest again, wriggling to force Steve to start his hand movements on his back again. Forget what he might have seen shining out of Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re like a cat.” Steve chuckled, his palms retracing their earlier motions.

“You have no idea, pal,” Bucky replied with a yawn.

Steve then flipped Bucky onto his other side, facing away from him, but immediately curled up behind him, ass to groin, back against the chest Bucky wanted to lathe attention on. Steve’s huge arms wrapped around his middle tightly, fingers lazily tracing patterns over his stomach, Steve kissing the back of Bucky’s neck softly, reverently, puffs of breath coming slow and steady and it felt like Steve was never going to let go.

Bucky was more than happy with that. Ecstatic even.

He looked down at the huge arms wrapped around him and noticed something odd about the view.

“Did you change my sheets again? No hang on - this isn't my comforter…”

Steve tensed up, and exhaled softly against Bucky.

“I hope you don't mind - but it's mine, from my bed. Yours is over there, and I'll wash it later, we made quite the mess. But I didn't want to leave you to wake up alone again this morning.”

Bucky’s heart filled, feeling certain words on the tip of his tongue and then deeper down inside of him. Steve was his impossible man, the dream people wished and hoped for, but never realised, never met, was always just an ideal.

And Bucky knew that Steve wasn’t perfect - far from it, but neither was he. Bucky was stubborn, annoying, left his wet towels on the floor, and even though Steve annoyed him when he didn’t do his dishes or left his washing in a pile on the sofa - Bucky didn’t care. Because he didn’t want the perfect relationship, he wanted a real one - and that’s what Steve was offering him. A real connection, one where they would fight, and moan and get angry at each other, but also one full of respect, care, and hopefully - as time passed on Steve’s end - love.

Bucky snuggled in deeper. “I like having it here on my bed, I can smell you wrapped all around me. It’s nice.”

Steve tightened his grip, lips pressing against Bucky’s skin, exactly over the bite mark that was still healing, kitten licking it, making Bucky shiver as Steve’s tongue traced the pattern before he fitted his mouth over the area again and gave it a sloppy openmouthed kiss.

“I like it in here too, Buck.” Steve whispered. “I …  _ like _ everything about you, more than I should at this stage.”

Bucky’s heart soared at the words and he was happy with that, he  _ wanted _ that, and he knew now that although Steve was soft with him, he’d flip the switch at a moments notice to give Bucky everything he needed - to calm the static in his brain, allowing him to not think, to just feel and he couldn’t have been more thrilled.

“Same, Stevie - same.” Bucky replied, and Steve’s kisses trailed up to the back of his ear, making Bucky shiver, while his hands moved lower, further and further until Bucky gasped. Steve’s fingers played with his coarse pubic hair, before sliding down until he danced across Bucky’s hardness, and Bucky sucked in a breath, tilting his hips as far as he could to give Steve better access. Steve chuckled deeply at his wanton display.

“Oh really?”

Bucky nodded with a grin.

Steve gripped Bucky’s dick suddenly, and started to dry jerk him, not too rough, but with enough friction that it bordered on uncomfortable, yet it was also utterly amazing.

“Jesus,” Bucky whined when Steve started to enlarge against his ass, and kept growing, becoming stiffer, gaining momentum. Steve was huge, his erection like a bridge slowly raising to let boats pass underneath, and he pleaded with his body for more. Pushing and pressing back, whining needily.

“Want you in my mouth,” Bucky husked, Steve halting his movements, loosening his grip on Bucky’s dick after giving him a harsh squeeze that made Bucky yelp.

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“I… yes… don’t I?”

And Steve rolled Bucky onto his back, looking down at him, blue eyes deep and full of content happiness, and Bucky had never seen Steve so open before, he was... beaming - all because of Bucky.

“Baby, you deserve the world - but you need to eat first,  need to get your energy back, because today we are both calling in sick from work, and I'm going to spend the day breaking you apart, piece by piece, to put you back together again, only to break you down once more.”

And with that reverberating through his brain and with one last harsh bite to Bucky’s lips,

Steve jumped up out of the bed, naked, strong and rippling in the early morning light.

“Toast or cereal?”

“You’re the worst, Rogers,” Bucky groaned, and heart full, Bucky threw a pillow at Steve’s retreating back, hearing his deep laugh and grinned happily into the empty room, dick hard and mind full of filthy ideas they could try over the course of the day. 

“Toast!” He yelled out after a moment.

Bucky smiled when he heard the words ‘as you wish’ filter back from the kitchen.

And Bucky was certain that he no longer had to wish for things, because he finally had everything he’d ever wanted at his fingertips. 

Life had never looked so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left - I can't believe it...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well everyone - this is it - the end of the road for these boys (but not really - because they will continue to live out their lives in the horniest of fashions as only they know how).
> 
> I just want to say thank you so much to every single person that clicked in and gave this story a shot, who read along and sent me amazing comments on here and Twitter and Tumblr, flailing and loving something that was only supposed to be a quick smutty story that somehow turned into so much more. And I got art - I'm still blown away - just - gah! But for all of you who subscribed, kudoed, bookmarked and read along - just thankyou a million times over.
> 
> Alright enough from me - I'm going to hibernate for a bit to write my Marvel Trumps Hate fic, then I'll be back with my next AU - Superheros!
> 
> Stay safe, healthy and happy and I'll see you again in the near future 😘

**One Month Later**

Bucky walked into the apartment that evening, the scent of something delicious emanating from the kitchen and he hung up his work satchel, making his way to both the source of the smell and the man he knew he'd find there.

Steve was standing before the stove, stirring a pot of red sauce that could only mean he was making Sarah's cannelloni from scratch, the dish, one of Bucky's favorites and almost as tasty as the person making it.

Glancing over his shoulder quickly, Steve grinned widely as Bucky curled up against his back, reaching on tiptoes to leave a small kiss on the base of Steve's neck before wrapping his arms around his waist; loving that he could do this, that they had each other in all facets of a relationship - that it wasn’t just a physical thing.

"Hey," Bucky murmured into Steve's skin. His only reply was a responding hum, Steve, too busy for the moment trying to get the flavours  _ just _ right - he was cute when cooking, wanting it to always be perfect. It was another reason he loved Steve so desperately, not that he'd let that little tid-bit out yet - it wasn't time, it was too soon… wasn't it?

Bucky found that his feelings really came to the fore when they’d sat down to work out their list earlier in the month, both realising within the first hour that they only wanted to include the sexual acts on it. Steve ducking his head when he mentioned everything else should just be natural between them, as part of their  _ relationship _ . Bucky melted at his core, finding out that Steve also wanted the comfort, the touching, the snuggling on the sofa and kisses and falling asleep in each other's arms with or without sex as part of their normal routine. As part of  _ them.  _ Together.

And once that had been sorted out as a given, they worked on the list to be for their play only. A list that made Bucky salivate each time he thought about it.

“How was your day?” Steve asked as he reached over to grab the oregano.

“Long. You’re home early?”

Steve slapped Bucky’s hand away as he tried to make a grab for the spoon, needing to taste the sauce, knowing exactly how good it would be, his mouth watering at the thought of their upcoming meal. Steve was spoiling him for some reason, and Bucky was all for it.

“Yeah, I took some personal time today. I have something I wanted to... well - there’s a parcel for you on the coffee table. Hey, no - stop right there.”

Bucky halted his backwards trajectory at the order - intrinsic in him to obey now. Even though he itched to go immediately and see what Steve had purchased; stomach quivering at the mystery, of Steve being home early, cooking his favourite food. Although it could just as likely be a new Switch, since they’d both loved playing Sam’s and egging each other on and play-fighting… which led to other  _ activities _ .

“ _ After _ dinner,” Steve stated, with no room to argue.

“Really?” Bucky whined.

“Don’t be a brat - and yes really. Now go have a shower.”

“Oh,” Bucky asked with a raised brow. “What _kind_ of shower?”

“A thorough one,” Steve smirked. 

Bucky’s heart immediately kicked up, he was never going to get sick of Steve or the way he took control, took Bucky in hand. He honestly had no idea what to expect and what Steve had planned, and the anticipation between them had never truly disappeared, it lingered, burying underneath Bucky’s skin to stay.

As Bucky turned to leave for his shower, Steve threw out a hand catching his shoulder and yanked him in, their lips meeting in what Bucky assumed would be a chaste kiss - but it turned into something much more, it always did. Steve’s tongue snaked into Bucky’s mouth, filling, taking, and exploring like he always did. Bucky sighed happily into it, stepping closer to Steve, pressing his body up against him, slotting in perfectly.

Steve pulled back with a grin, “Alright,  _ now _ you can go and get ready.”

“Okay…” Bucky replied breathlessly, dick already more than interested in the proceedings, and he was struck with a naughty thought - should he jerk off first? Get ready for whatever Steve had planned with a little stamina under his belt?

“And, Buck,” Steve said, making Bucky stop at the door, “I’m going to make sure you cleaned up properly…” Bucky nodded in response, “And no touching your dick, except to get it clean, it belongs to me tonight.”

The air whooshed out of Bucky’s lungs as his desire grew. “Sure, Stevie - anything you say.”

Steve smiled before shooing him out of the kitchen and Bucky left with a skip to his step. Whatever was about to happen, he’d be ready for it - hopefully.

  
  
  


After they’d eaten, Steve sent him off to sit on the sofa while he cleaned up the kitchen with the clear instructions that Bucky was not to open the nondescript package until he was told he could. Of course Bucky found he couldn't do anything  _ but _ watch the box sitting innocently on a table that Steve had fucked and sucked him on or against, too many times to count. It wasn’t a big package, but it also wasn’t tiny - it could quite conceivably house a smart speaker, and he frowned. Steve said he didn’t like the idea of having one in the apartment, still pretty old school about some technology, though Bucky teased him relentlessly about it, considering he bought a smart TV.

“You feeling okay there?” Steve asked when he’d finished up in the kitchen, Bucky swearing he’d been gone an hour, surprised to note only ten minutes had passed. And as he walked towards the sofa, Steve grabbed the base of his t-shirt, ripping it up and off his body in one motion, Bucky’s mouth suddenly void of moisture. Steve was stunning, absolutely spectacular and Bucky was still in a flux that Steve was all his.

He felt the familiar unsaid words bubble up in his chest as he watched those huge muscles stalk closer, those three little words that were desperate to escape.

Instead he licked his lips, catching Steve’s eye. “I’d be feeling better if you were over here.”

“What have I told you about sass, sweetheart?”

And  _ oh _ , they were on, it was happening, and Bucky inhaled deeply as Steve approached, unsnapping the top button of his jeans as he walked, making no movement to pull them down; but Bucky could see blonde hairs peeking out. 

_ Fuck. _

Steve wasn’t wearing underwear. How the denim kept his size contained - he had no idea.

“Eyes up, Buck.”

“Sir, yes Sir,” He saluted, loving the way Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners at his cheek.

“You can open your box, but only  _ after _ you’re naked.” 

Bucky stood up with no hesitation, shucking his sweats and tank, leaving himself completely exposed, yet it didn’t bother him in the slightest, he was too busy thinking about the small box. Before he could lean over to grab at his gift, Steve was right there, in front of him, palm cupped under his chin.

“You’re so beautiful Buck. Have I told you that?”

“Not today,” Bucky husked back as Steve’s other hand trailed down his chest, closer and closer to his thickening dick.

“Well you  _ are _ gorgeous, and you know what makes you even prettier?”

Bucky shook his head, gasping slightly when Steve’s fingertips traced a light pattern down his shaft to cup his balls, squeezing enough to make Bucky wince and stand on tiptoe.

“When your eyes are full of tears.”

_ Shit. _ Bucky thrummed, loving the nights when Steve took him to the brink of sanity. They didn’t play all the time, both enjoying sex as it came, quickly in the shower, over the bench in the kitchen, in bed, languid in the mornings, but when Steve got mean, when he wanted to play for real - that’s when Bucky’s body and mind sung out.

Steve let go of him and Bucky fell back flat on his feet, yet Steve surprised him by leaning forward, catching Bucky’s lips in the sweetest kiss, at odds with his words and actions, and Bucky melted directly into it. Large arms wrapped around him as palms trailed across Bucky’s back in large sweeping motions, and Bucky adored this part, of having Steve’s hands on him, touching, soothing and checking in without words. 

Fingers trailed over Bucky’s ass and he was yanked forward into Steve’s space, mouth forced open as Steve took everything Bucky had to offer and then took some more, until Bucky was breathless, gasping for air. He moaned as Steve’s fingers started to work along the crack of his ass, fingers dipping between his cheeks, before they disappeared abruptly.

Leaning back, Steve growled, “I thought I said -”

“No, you specified I couldn’t touch my dick -  _ not _ my ass.” Bucky sassed, not worried about the consequences for once.

It paid off when Steve chuckled, “Touche. I need to be more specific in future. But you’re lucky that this helps, and I’m glad you didnt put your plug in.”

“You are?”

“Open your present.” 

Steve let him go, and Bucky picked up the small unobtrusive package, unwrapping it quickly. When he saw what was inside, his eyes darted between the box and Steve’s wide grin, then back to what he held in his hand.

“You got me a…?”

“Yep. It’s not the newest one on the market, but it’s exactly what I needed to be able to make sure I didn’t break my promise to you.”

Bucky’s heart thumped hard and fast as his chest swirled in trepidation and excitement. “Fuck... Steve I don’t know if -”

“You can and you will.” Steve asserted, and Bucky felt himself calm immediately. “We’ll take our time. Unless you don’t want to, and if that's the case, now’s the time to opt out.”

Bucky thought about it seriously, knowing already he was going to say yes, it was a dream, one he’d wanted for a long time, but still - it was going to be a lot. And as he opened the packaging further to pull out the ‘not as small as he thought’ bright pink toy that would fit deeply in his ass, right up against his prostate leaving only the long thin tail hanging from his body - he gulped.

“Yes.”

“Yes what? Sweetheart.”

“Yes I want this, I want you to…” Bucky stalled, and Steve’s encorouging nod made him blurt the rest out, “I want you to fuck me while this is inside of me.”

Steve’s smile turned from indulgent to predatory within a second, and Bucky blinked at the rapid change, knowing he’d just agreed to his biggest fantasy after having seen and experienced Steve’s dick for the first time. They’d not attempted it yet as Bucky’s trusty plug, the one that started it all, was too thick, too large and even though they’d played heavily over the month; Steve able to get a finger, sometimes two in beside it, there was no way Steve’s enormous cock would fit.

Bucky turned the toy over in his hand a few times, trying to work out if it would all go to plan and not be a mitigated disaster that ended up in ER, though he’d seen enough clips and videos to know it most definitely had the design feature (unintentional most likely) to work out.

He figured he was about to find out first hand.

“Alright baby, I’m going to wash this, get it all nice and ready for you, but I think we need to go to bed for this one. I want you to be comfortable.” 

Bucky nodded, immediately heading for his room, but Steve stopped him with a word he’d not heard since they’d been together.

“Mine, not yours.”

“Huh?”

It wasn’t like Steve’s room had been off limits, they’d slept there after fucking on the sofa or in the kitchen, but they seemed to gravitate towards Bucky’s when they were playing. Whether it was the staple of the mirror, or that Bucky’s drawers were now full of lube and toys, he wasn’t sure. Yet the fact Steve had ordered him to  _ his _ room, felt significant.

It felt like something was shifting between them yet again, and he didn’t know what to think about it.

Nodding to Bucky’s small enquiry, Steve turned to walk towards the bathroom and yelled over his shoulder, “Do  _ not _ touch your dick  _ or _ your ass while I’m gone.”

“Come on,” Bucky cried back with a laugh, making his way stark naked to Steve’s room.

The moment he walked in, he was hit with the masculine and musky scent that was all Steve, so strong in his living space; usually Bucky was dopey and languid when Steve carried him in there to sleep, so he was already accustomed to the scents by the next morning when he woke up. He rarely got to explore, to enjoy Steve’s space. And Bucky couldn’t help it, he picked up a discarded hoodie from the chair in the corner, shoving his face into it, ignoring the wash basket that would have housed Steve’s underwear. He was a deviant, but he wasn’t about to go and sniff Steve's worn underwear - not without permission at least.

Bucky sat on the edge of the king bed and waited, hearing a whistle as Steve walked around the apartment and smiled at how domestic it suddenly felt. He wasn't certain if Steve wanted him to do anything, or position himself a certain way or if he was literally supposed to wait. It was all different, it wasn’t his room and Bucky didn’t want to fossick around and get into trouble. Even though he longed to poke about.

He was still trying to work out why they were in Steve’s room when Steve walked in, tall, strong and with a swagger that Bucky found mouthwatering - and he also had his phone in his hand.

Frowning, Bucky knew his face was puzzled and confused and when Steve grinned widely, Bucky’s heart flipped over in his chest at the unfettered joy shown on it. What in the hell was happening?

“What’s this?” Bucky asked as Steve turned the phone around, showing the document that was splayed across the screen, and it took a second for Bucky to realise he was looking at the same report he’d received a week earlier. 

Bucky’s eyes slammed upwards to catch Steve’s, and his mouth opened and closed a few times, words escaping him as he stared back at the phone, stomach swooping uncontrollably and he hardened, dick springing up and ready. A fact he couldn’t hide as he was naked. He saw Steve move from foot to foot before him and he looked back up to find Steve watching him closely.

“I’m clean.”

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed out.

It wasn’t that they didn’t  _ want _ to get tested as soon as they started their games, but they were both so busy with work and unable to secure appointments when they’d wanted, so they played it cautious and waited. And now - Bucky thrummed, the thought of having Steve inside of him bare, no thin layer of latex between them - was consuming him, he felt fuzzy at the edges.

It was almost too much.

“Does this mean…?” Bucky felt hope well, then pure adrenaline trampling over it. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m going to take you bare, feel you from the inside, make you writhe on my naked dick. And then, when I’m ready, and only then - I’m going to fill up your hole, make you  _ real _ messy.”

“Christ…” Bucky was going to pop off in seconds. The minute Steve entered his body, he was going to spurt and make an absolute fool of himself.

“You okay baby?”

“More than,” Bucky breathed out.

And that was when Steve threw the cleaned toy onto the bed next to him, Bucky let out a whimper, the noise not human - too high pitched. His eyes, wide and wondering, caught Steve’s - smirking at him knowingly, knowing that Bucky had just remembered what was about to happen.

Running a hand over his face, Bucky took in a shaky breath, calming his fluttering heartbeat. Steve was going to fuck him bare, while a toy vibrated deep up inside of him  _ and _ he was going to come inside of Bucky. Fill Bucky with his warm release, make it drip from him, make him wet.

Bucky was a dead man walking. He hoped his will was up to date.

Hearing the snap of fingers before his face, Bucky focussed his eyes to see Steve now down on his haunches before him, a concerned expression on his face.

“Buck?”

“No! Don’t you dare put a stop to this. Dont you fucking dare,” Bucky took in a breath and let it out, noting it was slightly calmer, “I just need a second to process. I want this… have  _ wanted _ this for such a long time - you are not that sadistic to deny me now.”

Steve smirked in a way that made Bucky’s heart lurch.

“Are you?” Bucky’s voice, small and uncertain, and Steve leant forward to kiss the corner of Bucky’s mouth sweetly.

He then moved across to capture Bucky’s lips, and Bucky fell into the caress, the kiss, and Steve started to rub his hands along Bucky’s thighs and within moments he was grounded again, thinking straighter. Now he just had anticipation riding him, waiting for how it was going to go, what Steve would do first.

“Alright, I need you up on the bed on your back so I can prep you. Then I’m going to slide into you bare for the first time, and after I have you squirming underneath me, begging me for more, I’m going to pull out and push that innocent looking toy deep inside and play for a moment, before sitting you on my cock and fucking you until I come deep inside. Does that sound good, sweetheart?” 

Bucky had no capacity for anything but to look at the naked chest before him as the words sunk in, and he could see Steve’s muscles bunch and tense under his watchful gaze and he wondered for a moment what was making Steve stiffen up, but he was too enraptured to ask. Hearing Steve put everything on the table so succinctly, letting Bucky know what to expect was so much sexier than not knowing what was about to happen. He nodded.

“Words baby.” Steve commanded and Bucky ducked his head, forgetting himself a moment.

“Yes,” He rasped, “But can I…” Bucky didn’t know how to finish his sentence.

But Steve knew, always knew, had guessed Bucky’s erratic thought pattern, “Can you come?”

Bucky nodded again and at the frown he received quickly said ‘yes’.

Steve looked him over for the longest moment, gaze lingering on his hard and wet tipped dick, the curl of his lip enticing and he shrugged, the fucker actually shrugged, “If you’re good - I’ll  _ think _ about it.”

“Steve…” The name, broken and forlorn on Bucky’s lips.

Steve cocked a brow, and Bucky immediately lowered his head, cursing the day he discovered that he loved losing control to this huge man. It was so frustrating and also spectacularly perfect.

“I’ll do my best.”

As Steve stood before him, he responded flatly, “You’ll do better than that.”

And Bucky clenched, ready for the onslaught of sensations and the fear that he might not be able to hold on. He knew deep down it was a safe space, there with Steve, but the unfamiliar room, the introduction of a new  _ untested _ toy and having Steve slide into him bare for the first time - was the perfect storm of overstimulation, daunting for his poor brain to comprehend.

As Steve stood up, Bucky watched his magnificent chest move past his line of sight and he couldn’t help but reach out helplessly to let his fingers trail over the taut skin until Steve was standing. Bucky’s fingers passed over the large bulge in Steve’s pants, feeling it twitch and noticing Steve’s stomach muscles spasm, until his fingers were settled on Steve’s thick thighs. Steve appeared more sensitive than usual that evening and Bucky wondered what was causing it - was it the thought of what they were about to do?

Bucky glanced up.

Steve halted immediately, a puzzled expression swept over his face as he stared long and hard into Bucky’s eyes, and it took Bucky too long to realise that he was staring up at Steve adoringly, like Steve held Bucky’s entire world in the palm of his hand - and even though he did, Steve didn’t need to know that, but it was getting harder and harder to conceal it.

“Bucky…?” Steve asked wonderingly, and Bucky blinked, smiling tightly up at him, swallowing down his nerves that he’d outed himself.

“You want me on my back and open for you now?”

Steve faltered for the barest of seconds, and if Bucky hadn’t been paying close attention to him over the last month of interactions, he might have missed it. Bucky swallowed tightly, hoping that he’d not ruined it with his too deep, unspoken feelings. He and Steve were a perfect match in every way and Bucky wanted Steve to feel the same before he said anything, he wanted to give him time to adjust to being in a relationship prior to spilling his deepest and darkest secrets.

And as Bucky ducked his head, wishing and praying Steve would let it go, he felt fingers under his chin, pulling his face up, not cruelly, but there was no room for Bucky to escape Steve’s grip. He trembled at the dominance.

Blue eyes, wide and sparkling, held him trapped and Bucky sucked in a sharp breath as Steve looked over his face, taking in every inch of skin and then tightened his fingers on his chin - hard. “On the bed - now.”

Bucky didn’t wait around - his reprieve, his salvation was right there and he took it.

He made short work of climbing into the middle of the huge bed as Steve stripped off his pants and for only the millionth time he caught his breath at having Steve naked before him, all his and no one else's. It was almost a dream, being in Steve’s room,  _ with _ him, especially when Steve was about to make one of the dream items on their list come true.

“Okay sweetheart, spread yourself open as wide as you can.” Bucky wriggled down to get comfortable, “quickly.”

Steve’s order was just what he needed, and a second later he had his legs up against his chest, thighs spread wide, completely baring all of himself to Steve, and even though they’d been in this position more times than Bucky could count - it felt different that day. So many things were unfamiliar and off kilter, but when Bucky paired that all up with the glint, the unusual look in Steve's eye, Bucky couldn’t puzzle out what it meant. Suddenly, Steve was there on the bed with him, sitting on his knees, a thick slicked up digit circling his hole, and he forgot about it.

“Buck - baby, you’ve got to learn to anticipate what I want, and that means when I tell you not to touch yourself in the shower - I mean  _ everywhere. _ ”

Bucky felt bad for letting Steve down, but he liked the stern schooling tone in Steve’s voice more, so he probably wouldn’t listen too hard, though he went through the motions, “Sorry.”

Steve hummed, clearly hearing the unspoken part to Bucky’s lacklustre apology, “You’re such a…” Steve shook his head, “later - but tonight, I’ll allow your lack of judgement, as it’s a special night.”

“It is?”

And Steve just smiled softly, making Bucky’s chest pulse a steady and excited rhythm. Steve wasn’t usually so soft and accommodating during their play. And as Bucky looked up at him like a god come to life, he saw Steve’s cheek muscle spasm and frowned - was Steve ok? Was he in pain?

But before Bucky could ask, Steve slid two fingers into his hole, and Bucky clenched, crying out at the intrusion, having only prepared himself minimally - but the stretch, the burn was so familiar and good that he started to pant immediately, wriggling to encourage Steve to fill him. Steve ignored his unspoken plea and crooked his fingers as he started to pump them in and out, slicking Bucky up with enough lube, the sounds coming from his ass should have embarrassed him. But instead, knowing what he was being prepared for - taking Steve bare - he needed to be lubed up and ready as quickly as possible.

Bucky no longer needed as much preparation as he had early on in their relationship, Steve keeping him open most of the time, having sex if not every night, almost every other; even though Steve still liked to take his time - liked teasing Bucky to frustrated tears, but there was an uncommon urgency between them, and soon a third and a fourth finger were deep inside Bucky.

“I’m ready - want to feel you inside of me.  _ All _ of you.”

Steve grunted in response and said nothing more - in itself surprising - and Bucky took notice that Steve’s face was unusually flushed, Bucky puzzled over it until Steve loomed over him, kissing him, pushing his tongue deep and possessive, and Bucky growled into it, meeting Steve in a frenzy of teeth and tongues. It was identical to their first kisses, raw and gritty, and Steve seemed to vibrate into Bucky, humming against his mouth. Bucky had no idea what had made Steve so turned on but he wasn’t about to argue. 

“You ready for me Buck - want me buried deep?”

“Yes, yes Stevie. Want you so bad, need to feel your skin rubbing me raw from the inside.”

Steve kissed him one last time before Bucky felt him nudging, and this time it wasn’t the latex and slickness of his covered dick.  _ This _ time - Bucky could feel the slight wetness at the tip of Steve where he’d been weeping against his rim and it was such a stark contrast to usual that he gasped, eyes snapping to Steve’s, whose returning look was just as awed as Buckys’.

“It’s been so long…” Steve groaned, sliding in just a little, past Bucky’s rim only an inch and  _ fuck _ , it was everything. 

“You’re so warm,” Steve murmured, voice slightly out of it, and Bucky was devastated, couldn’t form words as Steve pressed in further. The whole time he watched Steve, eyes never leaving him as Steve pushed and slid deeper, his reach unimaginable and Bucky hadn’t ever felt anything so perfect as Steve's fat bare cock sliding into him.

“You feel so fucking  _ good  _ in me,” Bucky managed, then leant up to capture the corner of Steve’s mouth, but that wasn’t good enough apparently, as Steve moved his head quickly to pulverise Bucky’s lips, brutal and thorough. His teeth nipped at Bucky, before licking and taking control and Bucky lay limp, ass full of Steve, mouth wide open and just let Steve take what he wanted. And Steve took - oh  _ Christ - _ did he take.

Bucky could feel Steve twitching inside of him, and it was unique, different from usual as Steve didn’t generally move his dick so much when laying still, and once more, the differences of that night compared to their other nights together hit Bucky. Steve was jerkier in his movements, sweat beaded around his hairline and Bucky would think he was coming down with something if he’d not seen Steve earlier completely healthy. Was it the thought of fucking Bucky with nothing between them that was making him so flustered?

Bucky wasn’t going to ask, it didn’t matter really, it was hot, and made Bucky feel validated, the thought that Steve couldn’t get enough of him too - even though abstractly he knew that, it was still nice to feel it in the heat of the moment.

“Jesus, Buck - I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” He panted back.

Steve just smiled at him, and it was a smile that made Bucky’s insides warm, it was a secret and sly smile laced with an emotion Bucky didn’t dare name, else get his hopes up.

“How do you feel?” Steve asked instead of answering.

“Good - so damn good. You feel amazing Steve - never want to wear a condom again.”

“No need to baby,” Steve said, then dragged his cock out of Bucky, sending sparks flying up his spine.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as Steve pressed back in slowly, taking his time. Bucky threw his head back and cried out as Steve slowly and systematically screwed him. Steve immediately latched onto Bucky’s neck, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses over the exposed skin, the area soon wet and salivary. Steve was out of control, and Bucky was so enamoured at the change, relishing in it, begging Steve to wet him up from the inside and outside - and that seemed to egg Steve on even further. His cock and mouth a flurry of activity.

Bucky became lost in a haze as Steve fucked him, grinding at the top of each thrust, keeping the pace steady except for a few unintentional jerks and grunts from Steve, and it seemed he really got off on being bare inside of Bucky.

Bucky loved every second of it.

Too soon though, Steve was pulling out, expression slightly wild. “You ready?”

And Bucky, glassy eyed and so fucking in love, smiled softly, “Always ready for you, Stevie.”

Steve once again hesitated, trembling slightly, eyes shutting a moment then pulled out completely, Bucky unable to help the forlorn little noise of loss; Steve was huge, so big and when he left Bucky’s warmth he gaped, hole closing around nothing and he felt so empty. His favourite thing to request when they slept together was for Steve to not pull out until he’d softened - needing the full feeling for as long as he could.

But this time - he knew he was about to be filled - and not just with Steve’s dick either.

“Alright,” Steve said, his voice stronger and more like the Steve he’d become accustomed too, “This is going to blow your mind, gorgeous.”

And before Bucky could ask how he’d know, Steve picked up the fluorescent toy, slathering it with lube until it was shiny and slick, and then he was spreading Bucky’s cheeks apart, pressing the different shaped toy into him. The first thing Bucky noticed was how easily it went into his body, how accepting he was of this secondary intrusion, and it wasn’t as wide as his normal toy, or as thick, he wasn’t sure if he liked it at first. The toy was foreign, and even though he knew they had amazing reviews for massaging the prostate, he liked his trusty vibrating large toy. But as Steve pushed it as far as he was able to, Bucky feeling the pull of the long thin tag poking out of his rim, the vibration started and he almost leapt off the bed.

“Holy shit… that’s so… so, oh  _ fuck - _ that’s different.”

“It’s something else isn’t it?” Steve smirked.

And there was something about the wording that hit him as odd, before Steve held up a small control and clicked a button, and Bucky was suddenly transported into his own world. Steve’s large hand suddenly splayed across his stomach, holding him still as he uncontrollably writhed in place, the pressure from inside paired with Steve's heavy hand holding him in place, made Bucky cry out loudly. It was so intense, so fucking intense from his other toy, and he wasn’t certain if he would be able to handle what was coming next.

“You ready for me baby?”

Glazed and whimpering, Bucky nodded, husking out a belated ‘yes’.

“You got some pretty tears for me tonight?”

Bucky croaked out a laugh, “I don’t think I could stop them even if I wanted to.”

“Good,” and Steve gave him that same secret smile from before that had Bucky’s chest pulsing. He was about to ask what was happening, when Steve’s eyes went unfathomably dark, and he ordered Bucky to get up on his knees, Bucky complying straight away; knowing the position they would be in to make it work, having discussed logistically, weeks earlier, how it would best feel for them both. 

But it was as Steve climbed past him to lie down, spreading his legs a little that Bucky almost died on the spot, heart stopping. His eyes bugged out of his head, and he was certain that the blood in his veins had ceased flowing at the sight before him.

Steve writhed on the bed as he lay back, eyes hooded, and looked up over to Bucky, mouth agape, panting. But Bucky only saw this all in his peripheral, because Steve… because Steve  _ fucking _ Rogers had a small pink tag hanging out of his hole, and Bucky could not look away, was frozen in place, feeling his dick so hard against his stomach as it pulsed and weeped and a broken moan left his throat.

Steve had not only bought Bucky a new toy, he’d bought one for himself and had presumably been wearing it all night while Bucky had no idea.

“Steve…?” He asked, voice cracking.

Humming happily in return, a smirk on his face, Steve knew exactly how floored Bucky was. They’d not really explored too much of Steve’s hole, Bucky having eaten him out a few times, played with it lightly, rubbing his fingers over the rim as Steve was buried deep in him - and Steve enjoyed the light play, but never in a million years would Bucky have thought Steve would push a toy up inside of himself.

“You’ve got… you’ve…” Bucky trailed off as he watched Steve clench around the toy, lifting his hips off the bed.

“Yeah, I do… feels so good Buck - I can see why you like them.”

And as Bucky sat on his knees, staring up the length of Steve’s body, seeing first hand how his rim tightened and loosened around the small tag of bright colour, Bucky grabbed the base of his dick, staving off his orgasm from just  _ looking  _ at Steve’s body taking a toy.

“Up you get.” 

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Steve’s, “you want... you’re going to leave that -”

“I won’t ask again.”

And Bucky clambered up to climb over Steve’s thick thighs, and as Steve trembled underneath him, Bucky saw not one, but two small controls near Steve’s hand on the bed and he shuddered as Steve clicked one and the intensity within him heightened. Bucky took a moment, wondering if he should find a cockring and put it on.

“Steve I…”

“You want to stop?” Was the immediate question.

“No, fuck no - I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

And for a second it looked like Steve was about to say something soft, to soothe him, but he didn’t.

“If you don’t get into position in the next five seconds, then you’re not going to feel my bare cock inside of you again for three weeks.”

Bucky knew he got whiplash, actual bonafide  _ whiplash  _ from how quickly he then moved, and within two seconds he was straddled in place, shuddering from the toy, feeling the trembles in Steve’s body below him, knowing now what was causing it, why Steve looked so out of it, the reason for the loss of his usual steely control.

Steve grabbed the base of his own cock as Bucky reached behind himself to move the tag to the back, and lowered himself slowly, ever so slowly onto Steve’s hard and straight dick.

At first it was as normal, the long thin tag only taking up minimal space, but as Bucky slid himself lower, taking it at his own pace, the reason for the position so Steve didn’t hurt him unintentionally - and so that Bucky could control the depth and length of thrusts, he started to feel fuller and fuller. And Christ it was good, almost uncomfortable, right to the point the toy started to vibrate more, and it wasn’t just the toy that made him cry out, it was the jerk and yell from Steve, his blonde head thrown back, and for the first time Bucky realised just what Steve had done to himself. The power he’d given to Bucky, because although Bucky was full, housing a toy that vibrated against his prostate as Steve fucked deeply into him - Steve also had the vibration inside of himself against  _ his _ prostate.

Not only that, but Bucky’s toy would also be vibrating on Steve’s shaft and God - just the thought of that had Bucky pinching the base of his dick again,  _ hard _ . Bucky waited a moment to calm down and to watch Steve underneath him, unable to tear his eyes away from the delicious sight, of seeing Steve enjoying the multiple sensations coursing throughout his body - being stimulated on all sides. And Bucky, he was struggling to take all of Steve’s dick, knowing he could, so with more purpose and resolve, Bucky pulled up a little, then slid down, repeating the motion over and over, thighs shaking at the position and the intensity, the sheer rawness of the moment. 

Bucky’s fists balled up as they rested against Steve’s stomach, and he impaled himself  _ down _ the length and thickness of Steve, inch by inch taking him deeper, gaining length as the pressure inside of Bucky kept going up, until he thought he might pass out from the flood of sensations.

Finally Bucky was seated, and he reached back to feel that Steve was basically all the way inside of him, only the smallest amount of Steve’s dick exposed, and Bucky couldn’t help but trail his fingers lower to Steve’s crack, feeling the small tail of Steve’s toy and tugged just once.

“Buck…” Steve warned, eyes flying open, the tone in his voice letting out a deep feral desire that had been hidden within Bucky. He wanted to be naughy - punished. 

“ _ Not _ tonight,” Steve snapped, reading Bucky so well it was frightening. Bucky came out of his fantasy back to the now, to see Steve watching him carefully, even though his stomach quivered from having the toy vibrating inside of him. His control was phenomenal.

“Sorry, shit sorry,” Bucky tried, and when Steve’s eyes softened the tiniest amount, Bucky allowed himself to smile a certain way and leant over Steve, unseating himself an inch or two, making Steve gasp.

“But one day. One day soon, you’re going to put me over your knee - won’t you… Sir?”

“Fuck,” Steve exploded and suddenly Bucky had huge hands wrapped around his waist, and Steve was fucking up into him and it was… indescribable. 

Bucky started to lose sense of time and place as Steve rammed him full, pushing the toy into him at the top of every push and he cried out, tears springing immediately, and then the toy gained momentum inside of him, and Bucky found himself fucking down on to Steve, meeting each thrust with a slam that made him see stars.

His head lolled over his chest, eyes shut as he squeezed them tight, trying his hardest not to come, knowing if Steve even put a finger to his rigid and red, weeping dick, he would make a mess - a huge mess.

“Buck you feel … oh Christ... this is intense… so fucking good - so good for me - I’ll do anything for you - give you everything you ever ask for.”

And Bucky’s eyes snapped open at Steve’s rambling words, unsure if having his own prostate stimulated as he fucked up into Bucky was making him say these things, or if he was half delirious out of his mind.

Then on one stroke, Steve become unstable, legs shaking as he raised them up behind Bucky to cradle him, caging Bucky in, and Bucky leant back to lean on Steve’s tense thighs as he rode on Steve’s dick, using his core muscles to hold himself up, to not interrupt his motion. But Steve... Steve was writhing, his toy clearly in a spot that made him a ball of sensation and his hips left the bed, Bucky suddenly in the air and Steve was thrusting uncontrollably. Bucky yelled into the room, his ass battered, sore and on fire - he’d never felt anything so intense before - he was consumed in Steve's reactions, in his  _ own _ reactions to everything going on, and seeing Steve come apart underneath him was off the charts. Unbelievable.

Suddenly Steve slipped out of Bucky from his erratic pace, and Steve immediately grabbed the base of his cock, holding onto himself and Bucky knew that look of desperation - Steve was close - too close.

“Baby, sweetheart. I need to be in you, quickly.” 

And Bucky was completely and utterly floored at the wildness in Steve’s voice, the franticness, and Bucky pulled the toys tail back away from where Steve was trying to push into his hole and suddenly with one hard thrust, Bucky was full again. Throwing his head back he gasped as Steve railed him from underneath, and no longer in control, Bucky sat and went for the ride.

He held on, gripping either side of Steve’s stomach, letting Steve take the pace, his rim stretched wide, the toy shaking against them both and Bucky knew they’d be doing this again and again. It was too consuming to be a once off, and as Bucky thought about all of the plug play they could have together, Steve began to shudder underneath him. Bucky himself so close to the edge, teeth gritted from holding on, and knew that he only needed one word from Steve and he’d be coming everywhere.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to come, I need you to come with me. Not before - not after,  _ with. _ Shit, can you do that?”

Steve’s words ran into each other, but Bucky heard him clear as day, nodding, “Yes, God yes, anything for you…”

And then Steve started to pump quicker and quicker, erratically, and Bucky was on fire, half out of his mind waiting for the order.

“Christ… I fucking love you Buck - come now!”

Bucky’s stomach flipped, lurching until he was off-kilter, his entire body going into shock and stunned with an open mouth, Bucky felt Steve coming deep inside of him, and with two deft strokes on his own dick, Bucky was joining him. Steve’s words burned into his skull, repeating over and over as he came, splattering them both as Steve’s heat, as his release, filled Bucky. 

As the vibrations continued, heading into the realm of over stimulation, he saw Steve’s hands grapple to find the controls and soon, the toys were off. And Bucky was left sitting on Steve’s dick, full of come and toy, staring down into the sweaty and completely sated, stunning face of the man he loved, who had told Bucky that he loved him during the heat of the moment, and Bucky was gobsmacked. Had Steve meant it?

Before he could spiral out of control, Steve cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing over the tears and sweat that stained his skin.

“Hey, look at me, sweetheart.”

Bucky did as he was told, eyes dragging from Steve’s lips, and what he saw in Steve’s face was nothing short of a miracle.

“You said… you mean... I…”

Steve grinned up at him, all confidence - and Bucky envied him for a moment, of being so certain, of being so sure in himself. “Yes I meant it. I love you Buck, have for a while now.”

“I…  _ shit _ ,” Bucky surged forward feeling Steve’s release slipping from his body, pooling out and around the shaft of Steve’s dick and he captured Steve’s lips in a fiery and slightly panicked kiss. “Steve - I love you so much - you have no idea…”

Steve’s hands came up to grab either side of Bucky’s head, holding him still, anchoring him to the moment, telling him to breathe without using words and Bucky’s body listened as Steve leant up, kissing him softly, sweetly. “I hoped you felt the same.”

Bucky gave a strangled laugh, “How can I  _ not _ Steve, have you seen you, have you  _ met _ you?”

Steve frowned, his grip tightening ever so lightly on Bucky’s face, “Bucky. Have you seen and met  _ you _ ?” And Bucky stalled at Steve’s words. “You honestly have no idea how amazing you are, do you? What a catch you are? I’m the luckiest man on the planet that you want me - that you’re allowing me to look after you.”

Bucky, in a daze, sat on Steve, the large dick still sheathed inside of him, Steve’s come slowly leaking from his body, having just shared the most intense experience of his life - and he finally realised that maybe, just maybe, Steve was just as in love with him. That Steve really thought those things about Bucky, and it was a humbling thought, but very,  _ very _ welcome.

“Jesus, Steve - you can’t just -”

“I’ll say what I want, Buck - don’t forget that.”

With shining eyes, full of love and wonder, Bucky kissed Steve again, “I won’t.”

Steve smiled against his lips.

“Good boy.”

And something deep inside of Bucky quivered at those words. __

  
  


The next evening, Bucky nestled into Steve’s arms on the sofa, snuggling against Steve’s muscular body, splayed out between his legs, and Bucky couldn’t have been happier, more than thrilled with how the last few days had turned out - how his entire  _ life _ had turned out in fact.

Steve loved him, he loved Steve - they were together with no intentions of going anywhere.

It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, contentedness, belonging, knowing that someone else had you so completely, that no matter what happened, you were not alone. 

But it was a feeling he was more than happy to thrive in, to embrace.

After their marathon session in the bedroom the night before, they lay entangled for hours, whispering words of love, comfort and everything in between, until Steve hefted Bucky up in his arms and carried him to the shower, washing him down thoroughly, soaping him up, massaging his muscles as he went. And Bucky allowed the tender treatment, loved it, in fact, and told Steve how much he craved his touch after their play, and Steve smiled at him knowingly - and of course he knew. Steve always knew what Bucky wanted, even before  _ he _ fully did.

Steve then propped Bucky up against the bathroom counter as he rubbed moisturiser into his tired body and Bucky was in a haze, soon wrapped up in one of Steve’s oversized t-shirts and placed back into bed until he woke the next morning still wrapped up in Steve’s strong unrelenting arms.

They’d both gone to work in a daze that day, texting each other as often as they could, until Bucky came home, pulling Steve’s huge t-shirt over his underwear and waited for Steve on the sofa. Steve came in, took one look at Bucky and grabbed him around the waist kissing him until he couldn’t think, before changing out of his work gear and flopping them onto the cushions. Both of them tired and exhausted still.

“I love you,” Bucky murmured, feeling Steve’s arms pulse around him, gripping him tight, before the press of lips landed softly on his head.

“You too, Buck. So much.”

“-Pizza?”

“-Pizza?”

They said at the same time and Steve chuckled, the sound and vibration running through Bucky’s body because of their position. And as Steve placed their usual order, with extra garlic bread, as Bucky was famished, he realised he did have one burning question for Steve.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed in return, watching the app that told them when their pizza would be ready.

“Why did we go to your room last night?”

“Huh?’ Steve put his phone down on the ground next to him.

“You told me to go to your room, not mine like usual - it was… different. I just wanted to know if there was a reason why?”

Steve’s cheeks coloured ever so lightly, “Oh right, that. I just wanted to see what room you liked better.”

“Better for what?” Bucky asked with a frown, staring down into Steve’s eyes, the blue darting between Bucky’s gaze and lips. Bucky licked them, liking the way Steve lost his thought for a moment.

“Well. I was thinking that a studio and office space might be nice.”

Bucky sat up a little straighter, the words he wanted to ask fumbling on his tongue, “What’s that got to do with -” 

He cut himself off at Steve’s small indulgent smile. He was an idiot.

“I just wanted to see whose room you’d prefer to move into.”

Surging forward, Bucky kissed Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s head, pulling himself up to slot over him perfectly and continued to kiss him until they were both breathless and laughing.

“I don’t care, Stevie, as long as there's room for me and of course the mirror.”

Steve chuckled and held up the TV remote, “And the TV?”

Bucky smirked, “I think we can safely leave that in the living area, but I’m not opposed to a replay every so often.”

Steve pushed a strand of Bucky’s hair behind his ear, smiling up at him, love and warmth embedded in his face as he stared, “I still can’t believe that it was something like a dodgy wi-fi connection that made all of this happen.”

Bucky ducked into Steve’s palm that was resting over his cheek, kissing it softly, “That and the fact I have an unhealthy obsession with putting toys inside of myself.”

Steve laughed, “And that too. But damn am I glad you do.”

“Are you trying to tell me that without me coming in my pants like a teenager on the sofa in front of you, that you wouldn’t have asked me out?”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s head, pulling him in for a hard kiss, all tongue and teeth, “Oh no, I would have got there in the end - but I would have made you come like that using just my hands.”

Bucky hissed in a breath. “How long until pizza is here?”

Steve gave him a feral smile, “Ten minutes. Are you issuing me a challenge.” 

Bucky nodded quickly, already semi-hard under Steve’s t-shirt, pressing against Steve’s leg.

Steve flipped him over with a squeal and a thump, kissing and licking up his neck, Bucky groaning, wriggling under the weight of Steve as Steve started to slide his hand up under the loose fabric to pinch Bucky’s nipple harshly.

“You have no idea how much trouble you’re going to be in.”

And Bucky didn’t answer, couldn’t, as Steve began his game, and Bucky lay back and let Steve take control, always would. 

He’d found his home with the person he belonged to, and would never have to wander the world alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah - this is going to be one of *those* stories... not offended if you opt out - but if you stick around - enjoy the ride ;)
> 
> I'm on the below if you ever want to chat about anything or come say hi!
> 
> Tumblr -[ kalee60](https://kalee60.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter - @kalee60_


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